Stir up…Rouse awake…Shake loose…These phrases fill our Advent liturgy and prayers. But what does it feel like to be stirred up? How does God rouse awake our faith? Why do we need to be shaken loose from the sacred status we give our “Christmastime traditions?”

“And a little child shall lead them” (Isaiah 11:6d).

I certainly felt stirred up during my second Sunday at Lake Park. Little Evelyn Marie was being baptized, and as part of the liturgy, I was asked to pray the prayer of blessing over this little child. As my hand reached to cradle the little baby’s head, I was overcome with a feeling of stirring throughout my body; it wasn’t nerves or fear—I’m convinced it was the power of God, stirring up my soul to see the gift of God’s presence in the soft, yet screaming child, and the glow of joy in her parents’ eyes, and the majestic awe of the baptismal ritual.

And so, as we wait and prepare for Christ’s coming to us, we live in the hope that God might shakes us in smallness, rouse us in the waiting of birth pangs, in the warm glow of love, in the places where we feel empty.

I was stirred up—by my own expectant wondering about of the mystery of little Evelyn. What might she become? How will her gifts benefit the world? How will God work to shape her life? What might God gift us this advent, as we wonder expectantly about the mystery of the baby Jesus, the magnum mysterium?

“The Spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of the knowledge and the fear of the Lord” (Isaiah 11:2).

I don’t think it is any coincidence that these are the very words of blessing I prayed over Evelyn during her baptism. These are the words the church will pray over Evelyn again as a teenager when she affirms her life of baptism. These words, which Isaiah uses to inspire hopeful expectation amidst a broken community, are the gifts God stirs up in us as we watch, as we wait, and as we prepare for the Christ child’s advent in our broken world.

It’s a little child that makes my hand shake when I feel the breadth of God’s love. It’s a little child, not fancy electronic gifts, that God uses to stir up our excitement. It’s a little child, not the bliss of the seasonal Peppermint Mocha, that rouses us awake to God’s active presence in the world. It’s a little child, not carols by the fireplace or family gatherings or parties with glØg, who illumines our darkness. It’s a little child, whether we’re ready for him or not, that God is going to use to transform the world.

“Stir up in each of us the gift of your Holy Spirit: the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord, the spirit of joy in your presence, both now and forever. Amen” (ELW, p. 236).

Vicar Matt