Looking into the Lectionary
First Sunday of Advent
November 30, 2025
Matthew 24:36-44
Recently, I ordered “60 Experiments in Looking,” a deck of cards from a group called We Are Just Looking. Their mission is simple: to celebrate the slow, mindful, and creative observation of ordinary moments — because that’s most of our lives. Why would anyone want to miss that?
The cards are meant to help us “rewild” our attention. Each invites a simple act of noticing: find a moving shadow. Look for something red. Trace the shape of a cloud. They’re small practices, but powerful ones. Because, as the creators of Just Looking say, “every scientist, artist and person who was once a child knows, once we start looking, whole new worlds begin to emerge from hiding.”
In Matthew 24, Jesus is preaching about a whole new world, God’s kingdom to come. This section of Matthew comes at the end of a long, apocalyptic speech, warning of the onset of hatred, sacrilege and suffering, a disaster that will happen so quickly, Jesus advises, don’t stop to get your coat. The disciples have been pressing for details: When? What will it look like? How will we know? And Jesus, in his maddening way, refuses to give them what they think they need. The timing of God’s coming realm, he says, is something “no one knows.” So instead of providing a timeline, he gives them a task: Wait expectantly. Keep awake. Watch for the signs. Don’t miss what matters.
The world is full of hints, if we have the eyes to see them.
Some signs will be obvious, he tells them – wars and rumors of wars, famines and earthquakes – and others will be small and subtle, like the way the branch of a fig tree becomes tender before it puts forth its leaves, signaling summer is near. The world is full of hints, if we have the eyes to see them. And the greatest sign of all, the one we wait for this Advent, will come not in thunder or flame, but in the quiet cry of a newborn child. A baby born to poor, displaced parents in a borrowed manger because there was no room for them elsewhere.
Slow down. Wait. Pay attention.
This is a difficult message to receive in late November. We just finished scraping pumpkin pie from the plates and packing up leftovers, wondering if we’ll ever get that casserole dish back, and already the world is urging us to speed up. Lights to hang, cards to send, gifts to buy, deadlines to meet. The stretch between Thanksgiving and Christmas is often the busiest time of year, made busier still because we want to do these acts of love that require driving, shopping, and enduring retail festivity among crowds, and we want to move quickly to get them done.
But it’s also among the most beautiful seasons of the year — if we are paying attention. If we slow our steps, pause our list, just for a moment.
Poet Mary Oliver once offered what she called “Instructions for living a life:”
“Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
Oliver’s words are as fitting for Advent as they are for life itself. Pay attention — to the fig tree, leaves now shed, to the red holly berries against bare branches, to the ache and beauty woven into your day. Be astonished — that God still chooses to show up in the ordinary. Tell about it — share what you see, with your loved ones and with the harried salesclerks and the rushed friends. Let your noticing become a witness to the One who notices you first.
Advent isn’t only about waiting for something to happen in the future. It’s about noticing what’s already holy now.
Advent isn’t only about waiting for something to happen in the future. It’s about noticing what’s already holy now. The Christ who is coming has already come — and keeps coming still.
Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.
Reflection questions on the first Sunday of Advent
- What ordinary moments or details in your day might hold signs of God’s presence — if you slowed down enough to see them?
- Where have distraction, hurry, or routine dulled your capacity for wonder?
- How might you practice Advent waiting this year as an act of awareness rather than anxiety?
View the corresponding Order of Worship for the First Sunday of Advent
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Each Advent, we are invited to slow down and pay attention — not just to Christmas on the horizon, but to Christ’s presence with us here and now. Draw Near, written by Outlook Editor/Publisher Teri McDowell Ott, is a daily devotional that helps you do just that.
Learn more about Draw Near: Lighting the Advent Path with Hope, Peace, Joy & Love.
