Advent Devotions
All are invited as we Make Room this Advent season.
God’s work, our hands
Today’s author is Prince of Peace member, Carol Swanson.
Text: Chapter 9 of the Gospel of John.
As he walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me…” (John 9:1-4a. NRSV).
In my bible, on the page of chapter nine in John’s Gospel, I had noted something I had read by biblical scholar Craig Koester some time ago: No punctuation in original Greek. Koester translates: “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind. But in order that God’s works might be revealed in him, we must work the works of him who sent me….”
Koester’s change in the punctuation shifts the sentence structure and makes what Jesus might have meant clearer to me. It removes any hint of cause and effect. (Would God cause him to be blind in order to heal him?) It also connects God’s work and the work of Jesus with our work (for Jesus said “we must work”) as his disciples, his followers.
How does God work in the world?
That is the question we spend a lot of time on in our process-relational theology group discussions. Last Saturday, we met after reading the first half of Paul Sponheim’s book The Pulse of Creation: God and the Transformation of the World.
In his preface, Paul wrote, Creation is: “a dynamic process for, as Jesus said, the Creator is ‘working still’ (John 5:17). Creation is living; it has a pulse. Creation continues. We could have learned from contemporary science’s privileging of energy over substance, or from the biblical writers in their praise of the living wisdom of creation. In any case, here the book finds its title and its heart, …the pulse beat of interruption and calling in relationship” (p x).
The pulse beat of interruption and calling in relationship.
In the story of the blind man, Jesus was the interrupter. He broke the continuing blindness this man had experienced his entire life. Jesus spat on the ground and made a little mud to spread on the man’s eyes, recalling God forming Adam from the ground. And though he did not yet see Jesus, he heard and followed Jesus’s directions, like the sheep who hears his shepherd’s voice (10:3,16). He washed in the pool, and then he could see. How wonderful!
But then there is more interruption of a different kind: heated rounds of questioning the man who had received his sight, as well as his mother and father. His parents were frightened and didn’t want to be involved; however, his belief was strengthened. He first reported that “the man Jesus” had healed him, then declared he was “a prophet” and finally that this man (Jesus) was “from God.” When Jesus heard that the man had been driven out by the synagogue leaders, Jesus found him again and confirmed that he was the Son of Man; the man believed, and their relationship deepened, part of the flock. (See chapter 10, the discourse interpretating chapter 9.)
Paul Sponheim wrote, “Transformation may begin in the turbulence of interruption. Or it may not, for there are interruptions and then again there are interruptions. Perhaps the difference lies in what comes next, for “interrupt” is also not the last word. …we live where we know interruption” (p 42).

These two months we have certainly felt the interruption of “operation metro surge” and the flood of ICE agents, its physical and mental violence, its racism, and its disregard for civil rights and the constitution. Thousands have responded to this by praying, protesting, being legal observers, helping to keep schools safe, paying for or distributing food and supplies to those in need. And there is much work yet to be done beyond any drawdown of agents.
Paul wrote, “If we look evil in the eye, there is some chance that we can see how transformation can take place over against—and even through—the interruptive destruction of evil” (p 50-51).
As we start this Lenten season, may we turn back to God. Let us join Peter, saying (or singing): “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (John 6:68)
Loving Creator of Life, may we hear your voice and hear your call to be a part of your work, to be your hands. Teach us to love your world and make it more just for all. Amen.
Previously…
A Community That Transforms
The beloved theologian and writer Henri Nouwen, in his book Reaching Out, provides a profound insight into the nature of true community: “Community is the place where the person you least want to live with always lives.” This challenging statement reminds us that authentic community is not about comfort or convenience, but about growth, transformation, and embodying God’s love.
Equipped with the Story
In the ever-changing landscape of our lives, where each day can bring new challenges, uncertainties, and decisions to be made, we have a steadfast and reliable guide in God’s Story. The apostle Paul reminds us in 2 Timothy that scripture is “God-breathed,” meaning it is inspired directly by God and serves a divine purpose in our lives. It is not just an ancient text but a living document, rich with wisdom and guidance.
Graduation Recognition
Graduation time is always a bit hard for me as I know that many of the youth I’ve had the chance to get to know over the years I won’t see much of, or possibly never again, as they begin a new chapter of their life.
A Light To My Path
In her book Inspired: Slaying Giants, Walking on Water, and Loving the Bible Again, Rachel Held Evans invites us to engage with scripture not as a static rulebook, but as a living, breathing narrative that interacts with our own stories. She emphasizes that scripture invites our questions and reflections, encouraging us to bring our whole selves to the text.