For this second week of Advent we’re reading Ezekiel 37:1–14, Ezekiel’s famous vision of a valley of dry bones. We wonder why God asks Ezekiel whether he thinks the bones can live and why on earth he instructs Ezekiel to prophesy directly to the bones, kind of a ridiculous prophetic task. But as the bones come together with new sinews and new flesh, we recognize the importance of a prophet who can speak hope to the hopeless and restoration to a community in despair. We also notice that the breath that animates these restored bones comes not directly from God but from the four winds reminding us that we need to be open to the enspiriting breath of the world around us, from which our own renewal may come.

This week we are reading Daniel chapter 3 - a story that seems for a while to be moving in the direction of an over-the-top, cartoon worthy adventure, until you get to the utterly arresting, mic-drop statement of faith planted somewhere in the middle. We wonder: In an environment where loyalty to the king has been conflated with loyalty to the king’s god, what does it mean to live a life faithful to your god and still within the boundaries of the society where you find yourself? Could Shadrach, Meshach and Eved-nego have de-escalated this conflict? Should they have? And how sure were these guys that they were going to come out of that furnace okay?

This week we’re reading Jeremiah 29:1-14, a text so hopeful about the future that it is often found on t-shirts and graduation gifts. But while the passage is indeed hopeful—“I know the plans I have for you”—in the context of Jeremiah it is a certain kind of difficult hope: a hope that must first reckon with a tumultuous present reality that will not yield in your generation, or your children’s generation, but only seventy years from now, when Babylon’s time is up. So what then must we do in the meantime, until that hopeful day finally arrives? Build houses, plant gardens, have children. Seek the welfare of the community—the whole community, the Babylonian community—for only when it thrives can you survive until the day God’s promises are finally realized.

On this special episode, Amy talks with Bobby about his new book, Reading the Bible with Brueggemann: Scripture's Power to Remake the World. We discuss the nature of truth, the power of imagination, whether and how Jews and Christians can read the Bible together, and whether or not God exists, among many other things. We also encourage you to buy Bobby's book, which you can find here: https://store.acupressbooks.com/products/reading-the-bible-with-brueggemann

This week we are reading Isaiah 9:1-7–a gorgeous and well-known piece of poetry that imagines a shift from darkness to light; a shift from a time where the powers that be weigh down on your shoulders like a yoke, to a time when a new leader will emerge and take that weight upon his own shoulders. These verses invited us to go back to the Hebrew original over and over, and we found quite a treasure there. At the top of the list, strangely, maybe, is a point of grammar–what does it mean to speak of something that hasn’t yet happened in the world around us, as though it is so certain it is essentially completed? Something as huge as an end to fear and violence ... as good as done? 

This week we’re reading Amos 1:1-2 and 5:7-15, 21-24, where we hear the eighth-century prophet Amos critiquing the wealthy elite of ancient Israel for their mistreatment of the poor. We hear the voice of God roaring from Zion, rejecting the worship of the elites and declaring that justice is the precondition for an authentic relationship with God. We struggle with the idea that the wise should keep silent in evil times but ultimately conclude that God is directing us away from public speeches and toward local acts of mercy, seeking the good and establishing justice in the places where we have influence. With the blessing of God, these small acts of righteousness become a mighty stream rolling down like waters all around.

This week we are reading about Elijah’s encounter with God in 1 Kings 19:1-18. We have so many questions. Does Elijah know where he’s going when he heads out into the wilderness, or does some other force draw him toward Horeb, aka mt Sinai? When God asks, “Why are you here, Elijah” -- was God’s tone compassionate, curious, or irritated, or something else? And – when the battles of the world are exhausting us, just how long can we go sit under a bush before it gets weird?

This week we’re reading the story of Solomon building the Jerusalem temple as told in 1 Kings 5:1-18 and 8:1-13. We discuss the political alliance between Solomon and King Hiram of Tyre that makes building the temple possible, and wonder whether state-sponsored religion always exploits the poor laborers to satisfy the aims of the wealthy and powerful. We ponder whether and to what degree God resides inside of human religious structures, whether the temple of Solomon or the religious denominations of our own day. And we notice that even inside the stable structure of the temple, Solomon places the tent of the tabernacle and the ark of the covenant with its poles still attached, making us ponder what essential elements of our own traditions may need to be carried out of the reified structures of static religion and given new life beyond the status quo.

This week we read about the anointing of young David in I Samuel 16:1-13, and a few verses from Psalm 51, set much later in his career, at a time when he clearly was not living up to God’s expectations , and he knew it and grieved it.  We wondered what kind of heart God was looking for when he chose young David to be king? A pure one? A steady one? And what does it mean for us to read the story of David’s anointment as an innocent boy, when he is all potential -  alongside a psalm about his lowest of lows? How does the one inform the other?

This week we’re reading the story of the call of Samuel in 1 Samuel 3:1-21 in which the young boy Samuel at first confuses the call of God with the voice of his mentor, Eli the priest. We discuss the process through which faith becomes our own as we, like Samuel, learn to distinguish the voice of God from the voice of our predecessors in the faith. But such differentiation can at times lead to conflict, as it does for Samuel when he realizes that God is preparing to punish Eli for his failure to correct and discipline his own sons, who have been harming the community of faith. And while we admire Samuel’s comfortability sleeping in the presence of the ark of the covenant, we wonder whether it may be possible to feel too comfortable in God’s presence, forgetting the gravity of the calling to which we have been called. Sometimes it may not be enough simply to be present. It is only when we say “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening,” that everything begins to change.