What We're Reading - December

Blessed Advent! Advent, meaning "coming," is a season during which Christians observe a time of repentance, waiting, and quiet prayer. We pray for the reappearing of Christ and anticipate the upcoming celebration of Christmas, when we recall Christ coming to earth to dwell among His people. We also give thanks for Christ's presence in His Word and Sacraments.

At ILS we follow the Church Year calendar as a way to teach the Good News of Christ. We give thanks for these intentional rhythms and the opportunity to be united with Christians from times past and in the future.

ILS parents are warmly invited to join us for our December First Friday Coffee, which will be held on Friday, December 9th at 8:30am. Join us as Upper School Literature teacher, Miss Carissa Davis, leads us through a discussion of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens as a glimpse into how our students engage with literature in the Upper School at Immanuel. Our ILS 8th grade students read A Christmas Carol each December as part of their year-long exploration of the theme of redemption.

If you would like to order a copy of The Trinity Forum's short reading selection of A Christmas Carol, please complete this form today! Limited selections of teacher recommended books for children and parents, perfect for Christmas gifts, will be available for purchase during the Coffee.

Thank you for the many ways you participated in our ILS Month of Service throughout November. Together we collected food for and prepared 62 Thanksgiving Meal Kits to share with neighbors in our community through Christ House. Additionally, you shared more than 2,000 non-perishable food items to refill the Christ House food pantry.

Please take a moment to enjoy our December"What we're reading..." blog. It is always our hope that these articles spark on-going conversation and engagement with our community as we work together shaping and nurturing our culture at school and at home.

Are there things that you have read that you think others in our community may enjoy? Please feel free to share a link in the comments to email us any time!

Thank you for your continued partnership, and for engaging with us!


Today begins the Advent season, so we started the service in a strikingly different way through the praying of the Litany. On our knees and in prayer, we lift our voices to God with pleas for His help and mercy.

The somber tone conflicts with the world’s busyness and holiday chatter. Children are feverishly writing their wish lists, and outwardly, adults are doing their best to make this the hap-happiest Christmas of all.

An aspect of the Christmas season leads us to believe the façade that we can make the season bright. We can alter the course of time. We can put away all sadness. We can “gift” our way out of family turmoil and strife.

Yet, still, as we move forward from Thanksgiving and look towards the stockings stuffed with joy and presents under the tree, we all wrestle with the feelings of unreturned love as Elvis Presley’s rendition of Blue Christmas plays in the background.

And this is one reason we begin the season of Advent the way we do, by realizing we are a broken people in need of help, love, and rescuing that cannot come from within nor from the hands of mere mortals.
— Pastor Noah Rogness, "Advent 1 - Ad Te Levavi"

I suppose everybody’s noticed that Christmas sales are advertised on television long before Thanksgiving, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen an “Advent Sale” or anything remotely resembling an encouragement to prepare the way of the Lord, make straight His paths. What would an Advent Sale be like? No sale at all, really. People might bring out to their sidewalks all the things they do not need, for anybody walking past to take at their pleasure. That’s a lot easier to do with your household than with your soul.

“Hm, honey, do you think I should get rid of this scrap of pride here? I’m awfully fond of it.” “You may be fond of it,” your wife says, with a touch of a smile, “but I don’t know that anybody else ever was.”
An ADVENT, you see, is not just any old approach of something or other. We don’t await the ADVENT of the dog running back to the house after we’ve called out, “Here, Duke, here, boy!” An ADVENT implies the approach of something – in our case here, someone – that will shake the world, perhaps to its foundations. But that still does not capture the full force of the word. Suppose you are an astronomer, and you see a great asteroid apparently hurtling from nowhere, about to strike the earth dead-on. That sure will shake the world, and it will be a surprise, but I don’t think we’d call the approach an ADVENT, no more than if a poor drunken fellow were to step unwarily in the path of a speeding car. But when Cornwallis found himself hemmed in by land and sea at Yorktown, and he surrendered to George Washington, a wise observer might well say that the sun rose on the ADVENT of a new political era.

What I’m getting at is this. When Saint Paul and Saint Peter and Saint James wrote about the coming of the Lord Jesus in glory, they used a word that suggested his presence already: the Greek parousia. And that’s the word that Greek Christians use to this day to describe the season before Christmas, when they prepare themselves, with penitence, for the advent of the Lord. The Greek paron means present, being on the spot. Jesus himself surely instructed his disciples in this mystery, his both being-here and yet-to-come. For he says that “the kingdom of God is among you,” and “the kingdom of God is at hand.” The Son of Man, we are told, will come “like a thief in the night,” or like the rains that fell in the days of Noah, when no one expected them, but we are also told that he is near, even at the gates. Both are true at once.
— Anthony Esolen, "Word of the Week: Advent"

Our Church Year begins with Holy Scripture’s conclusion. The Church’s celebration of the Saints Triumphant and its recognition of Christ’s second coming in the end times smoothly leads us to Advent, the time of waiting for our Savior’s coming—past, present, and future—and the time of repentance in anticipation of His coming.

This stands in stark contrast to the secular world’s celebration of the new year, a time of raucous partying to ring in another year full of anticipation and sincere resolutions to better oneself. Instead, Advent offers a quieter, humbler way to begin anew. In this way, we repent or turn from our sins and pray, “Come quickly, Lord Jesus!” We look to the Old Testament prophecies of when Israel expectantly awaited her Messiah. We look to Christ’s presence among us today in His Word and Sacraments. And we eagerly await His coming on the Last Day, when He will gather the faithful to Him in His kingdom.
— Marie Greenway, "Rejoicing While Waiting for Jesus"

It’s easy to get caught up in the shopping, decorating, events, and parties that consume December and make it feel not as if we’re preparing spiritually for the Lord’s coming, but rather celebrating with a month-long birthday party. Infusing more silence in our lives, especially during such a distractingly consumeristic and gluttonous few weeks, can do wonders for our souls (and stress levels).

Fr. Marc recommends setting aside some daily quiet time, either early in the morning or before bed, in a church or in a peaceful part of your home, in which to create an environment of silence and prayer.

“Turn off noisy technology,” he suggests. “Use a book with prayers and meditations to help you stay focused if your mind tends to wander. Saying short little aspiration prayers also helps.”
— Teresa Mull, "The Case for a Quiet Advent Season this Year"

This text, originally in Latin, is one of a handful of hymns whose attribution to Ambrose of Milan is secure. His authorship is attested to by Pope Celestine in 430 and by other early writers. Ambrose, the “father of Latin hymnody,” took over the Eastern custom of singing hymns and brought it to the West. His hymns were strophic, written in four lines of eight syllables per line, rhymed, objective in character, scriptural, and intended for singing by the people. Many early Latin hymnwriters imitated Ambrose’s general pattern, and their efforts were called “Ambrosian hymns,” although they were not written by Ambrose himself.
— "The History of 'Savior of the Nations, Come'"

Thanksgiving takes a lot of flak these days. Christmas haters are called “Scrooges” or “Grinches,” but haters of Thanksgiving are considered socially conscious and realistic. For many Americans, the fourth Thursday in November is an annoying holiday with racist origins — an excuse to force innocent citizens to gorge on poorly prepared, outdated foods while fraternizing with uncongenial relatives. It is, moreover, a day of hypocritical tension between trite demands to “be grateful” versus a Black Friday rush through the mall. Dismissively labeled “T-day” on social media, Thanksgiving is becoming mere no-man’s-land stuck between the two towers of Halloween and Christmas.

This is a shame. One of the tragedies of the modern era is the way our culture finds it so difficult to rejoice or gather together. Instead, modern Americans report increasing anxiety and loneliness while isolating and polarizing ourselves. Americans do not know how to celebrate Thanksgiving well anymore. No wonder the day has lost its identity.

But for Lutherans, who are blessed with a long tradition of rejoicing, celebrating and gathering together, Thanksgiving is an opportunity. We are old-fashioned enough to recognize the value of old customs and rituals. Hideous green-bean casseroles aside, we can serve our neighbors this November by showing them how to delight in a day like Thanksgiving.
— Anna Mussmann, "In Defense of Giving Thanks"

1. Reading and discussing the classics make us better human beings.

Classical educators have always touted liberal learning as inherently humanizing. The ultimate purpose of education is to make us better people, to cultivate wisdom and virtue, not simply provide career preparation. The ancients referred to classical education as liberal and humane, emphasizing virtuous participation in a free society. By living a wise and virtuous life, one is able to fulfill the purpose of his humanity (thus the term, humane). As H.I. Marrou said, “Classical education aimed at developing men as men, not as cogs in a political machine or bees in a hive.” Similarly, John Stuart Mill said, “Men are men before they are lawyers, or physicians, or merchants, or manufacturers; and if you make them capable and sensible men, they will make themselves capable and sensible lawyers or physicians.” The goal of education is not utilitarian; it is humane.

The content, the means by which this humanizing occurs, is the liberal arts, rooted in the classics. The classic texts “not only exhibit distinguished style, fine artistry, and keen intellect but create whole universes of imagination and thought.” They portray life as complex and multi-faceted, illustrating human glory and tragedy, beautifully depicting the drama of man’s most significant struggles. The classics uproot our assumptions and display epic human struggles. They compel us to examine our own lives and contemplate what is good, true, and beautiful. The impact on the reader is transformative.

In Werner Jaeger’s summary of Socrates’ teaching, he states, “Education is not the cultivation of certain branches of knowledge… The real essence of education is that it enables men to reach the true aim of their lives.” The classics provide an education that indeed requires us to struggle with the true aim of our lives. By doing so, they make us better men.
— Eric Cook, "Why Read the Classics"