NeuroDivine

Isaiah 2:1–5 | Psalm 122 | Romans 13:11–14 | Matthew 24:36–44

“I joyed when to the house of God, Go up, they said to me.”

The old cadence of the Scottish Psalter still rings oddly in my ear. Its word order feels unfamiliar, almost comic, yet it lingers—memorable because it was passed on by David Ford, whose public life carried weight and whose private words carried warmth. Sometimes it is the unexpected phrasing that lodges deepest, reminding us that joy is not always polished, but often awkward, surprising, and real.

Advent begins with this joy: the call to go up, to stand within the gates, to be gathered. Isaiah imagines nations streaming to the mountain of the Lord, learning peace instead of war. The Psalmist delights in feet standing firm in Jerusalem, a city of prayer and judgment, a place where belonging is enacted. Paul urges us to wake from sleep, to cast off the works of darkness, to put on the armour of light. And Jesus, in Matthew, warns that the day of the Lord comes suddenly, like a thief in the night—so stay awake, stay ready.

The rhythm is clear: joy, gathering, waking, watching. Advent is not passive waiting; it is active readiness. To “go up” is to step into community, even when the words sound strange or the order feels off. To “stand within the gates” is to claim a place, however tentative, in the fellowship of prayer. To “wake from sleep” is to resist the dullness of routine, to notice the light breaking in. To “watch” is to live alert, attentive to mercy arriving in unexpected ways.

For me, the memory of that psalm line is a reminder that belonging often comes through oddness. The phrasing jars, but it carries joy. The summons to Advent jars too: it interrupts, unsettles, demands attention. Yet it is memorable, and it is mercy.

So the reflection for this Sunday is simple:

• Joy is found in the summons—even when the words are strange.
• Belonging is found in standing together—feet within the gates, hearts within the prayer.
• Readiness is found in waking—casting off what dulls, putting on what shines.
• Hope is found in watching—alert to the suddenness of grace.

Advent begins not with certainty but with invitation. And sometimes the invitation comes in odd word order, sounding funny, but carrying joy all the same: Go up, they said to me.

Prayers of Hope for Advent

Leader: Lord, we wait in the shadow of night.
Lord, in your hope, we come.

When nations long for peace and swords are heavy in hand,
Lord, in your hope, we come.

When weariness dulls our hearts and sleep tempts us away,
Lord, in your hope, we come.

When the day comes suddenly, like a thief in the night,
Lord, in your hope, we come.

As we stand within the gates, feet firm in prayer,
Lord, in your hope, we come.

In joy, in oddness, in mercy remembered,
Lord, in your hope, we come.

O God of light and promise, you call us to wake from sleep, to stand within your gates, to walk in the ways of peace, and to watch for the coming of your Son. Gather our joy, our weariness, and our longing, and clothe us in the armour of hope, that in every season we may be ready to meet you, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.