Review: Advent; the Once & Future Coming of Jesus Christ by Fleming Rutledge
Bob Hyatt
November 13, 2018

Fleming Rutledge.  Advent; the Once & Future Coming of Jesus Christ.  Eerdmans, 2018. 406 pp.

“Advent is not for sissies.”

So writes Fleming Rutledge, the Episcopal priest, author, and theologian who penned Christianity Today’s 2017 Book of the Year, The Crucifixion; Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ. In her latest work, Advent; The Once & Future Coming of Jesus Christ , she compiles a brilliant and engaging collection of Advent sermons ranging from 1975-present.

Rutledge begins with an introduction to Advent that every pastor will want to read as they begin to prepare to lead their own church through the beginning of the Christian year. The first part of the book contains a handful of Advent-related writings before moving on to “Pre-Advent” sermons on themes like the final judgment, the justice of God, and sermons for the Feast of Saint Michael and Christ the King. Ultimately it isn’t until page 251 that her formal Advent sermons begin.

Her primary contention is that the church has too often used Advent to prepare for Christmas and all the ornamental sentimentalism (what she refers to as “Christmas creep”) that comes with it rather than to seriously prepare for the second coming of Jesus and His final judgment.

She writes,

“The eschatological note of Advent, focusing on the second coming of Christ-the principal subject of this book-has been largely ignored even among the most enthusiastic Advent-lovers of late” (pg. 4).

I confess that as a pastor I have too often led our church through the season of Advent doing the very thing she cautions against; attempting to suspend belief that the incarnation has happened so that we can prepare for Christmas anew. It may be a surprise to readers that the original Advent themes were not hope, peace, joy, and love.

“…the Medieval church designed the four Sundays of Advent around the themes of the four last things: death, judgment, heaven, and hell- in that order, so that the subject of hell was preached on the Sunday just before Christmas Eve. That was no accident. The idea was- and is- to show how the light of the birth of Christ appeared against a backdrop of darkness, depravity, and despair.” (pg. 238)

Recently, in Florida, a disturbing and stomach-turning plot was uncovered at Bartow Middle School where two 11 and 12 year old students planned to hide in the bathroom, overpower smaller students, cut them up and eat them before turning a knife on themselves all in the service of Satan.

This, Fleming Rutledge would contend, is an Advent story. Or, in her own words, “Advent begins in the dark.”

That’s not quite as palatable to the contemporary church-going consumer. Which is why churches have forsaken these demanding themes that involve judgment and death in lieu of multiple “Christmas Eve” services that often begin two weeks before Christmas!

But as Rutledge insists, Advent isn’t a time to prepare for Christmas, rather its purpose is to “take an unflinching inventory of darkness” (pg. 173). Rutledge accomplishes this by telling stories that highlight the darkness displayed in human depravity via the most recent headlines, which she is effortlessly able to source year after year. Against this “backdrop of darkness” the light of Christ and the good news of judgment gleam even brighter as she proclaims the hope of God’s judgment on evil and the good news of the finality of Christ’s reign in the second coming.

I appreciate her repeated emphasis on the fact that there are not only two powers working in the world (humans and God), but three powers. Rutledge acknowledges her own tradition has largely made obsolete the embarrassing pre-enlightenment belief in a literal second coming and the “antiquated” notion of divine judgment. Rutledge is clearly not capitulating to mainline denomination norms as she proclaims the reality of an enemy force that is active not just in our world but in each of us.

My only criticism of this collection is that it can be quite repetitive. She acknowledges that this is a possibility in the beginning of the book, but it does not relieve the redundancy of some of the sermons. In one way, this repetition can serve to reinforce the major themes of Advent as she sees them, but it can also become slightly monotonous as it can feel like you are reading the same sermon over again with slightly different illustrations. I suppose the luxury of preaching at a variety of churches is that you can repeat material, but in a collection of sermons published to be read it can be wearing. However, as the book ends readers are rewarded for persevering as the final three sermons may be the highlight of the entire book.

A major concern for Rutledge is not just that we understand the proper themes of Advent, but that we as the church would begin to live as Advent people.

“The call is for the Church to reclaim for the sake of its own life and mission Advent’s focus on the reign of God and, in so doing, to hone once again the counter-cultural edge of the Gospel at the very beginning of the liturgical year.” (pg. 5)

If you can’t imagine the world you are heading toward, you can’t work toward contributing toward that world. Advent helps us to anticipate the kind of world that will be realized when Christ comes again to judge evil and renew all things.

She writes

“In our present lives we are both bearing witness to and waiting expectantly for the coming of the Lord. Bearing witness is an active stance; waiting is a passive stance. Both are part of the message of the herald of the age to come.” (pg. 12)

And so, locating ourselves as living between the Old age and the New age to come makes all the difference in the way the church conducts itself in the present. 

But ultimately Advent tells us that

“The church is not called to be a ‘change agent’- God is the agent of change. The Lord of the kosmos has already wrought the Great Exchange in his cross and resurrection, and the life of the people of God is sustained by that mighty enterprise. The calling of the church is to place itself where God is already at work. The church lives, therefore, without fear, in faith that the cosmic change of regime has already been accomplished.” (pg. 12-13)

Recently, if you follow Fleming Rutledge on Twitter ( @flemingrut), you would have read her response to a conversation on the labels “progressive” and “conservative.” She tweets,

This is a good summary of Rutledge’s emphasis of God as the primary actor through all of human history and her realistic assessment of the weakness of humanity when unaided by the grace of God.

What this all means for the church on mission is that as we live in between the ages or “on the frontier of the turn of the ages” (pg. 13), we are marked by fearless living, radical forgiveness and the weapon of nonviolence. We recognize and regularly remember that there is a hostile enemy force that is engaged in seeking to thwart God’s mission as we resist evil and give witness to the coming reign of God in our service, prayer, and counter-cultural lives together.   But ultimately our hope lies not in our own personal or communal efforts, initiatives, and agendas but rather the God of Advent who drew near to us in Jesus and who will come again to take away the darkness forever and be our eternal light.

 

By Bob Hyatt • October 7, 2026
“When God works in us nothing is useless, and nothing is spared.” - Jeannine Brown, Carla Dahl and Wendy Corbin Reuschling, Becoming Whole and Holy “There is no circumstance, no trouble, no testing, that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with great purpose, which I may not understand at the moment.” - Alan Redpath Here's something I've noticed about people as they get older: they tend to go one of two ways. They either get sweeter with age or they get crankier. They grow wiser and more like Jesus, or they grow bitter and more like the worst version of themselves. That's because life is formation. Everything we do and everything we go through shapes us one way or the other, mostly depending on how we respond to what happens to us, whether it's extraordinary or completely ordinary. Ministry works the same way. I've watched leaders come out of nearly identical trials in completely different shape. Some come out stronger. Others come out deeply wounded, discouraged, and ready to quit. The difference usually comes down to where they see God in the middle of the struggle, absent or present, and what questions they ask about it. Some ask, "God, why is this happening to me?" Others ask, "God, what could you want to form in me through this?" Both views of God will shape us, and so will both questions. They just shape us in very different directions. In my experience, the most common sin in church leadership is an obsession with numbers and results, paired with neglect of our own souls. On top of that, we rarely stop to notice how those numbers and results, and how ministry itself, are shaping us. So here's my suggestion: stop working so hard to develop your ministry and start noticing that your ministry is developing you. How you handle the realities of church leadership will determine not only what your church becomes but what you become. Leadership and ministry will form you. The only question is: into what? One tool God uses: the fishbowl Some people hesitate to become a pastor because it opens them up to scrutiny, and now and then to outright criticism. When I was a young leader, I hated the "fishbowl effect" of ministry. Everyone was watching me, and my mistakes seemed to count for a lot more than anyone else's. It felt deeply unfair that flaws that wouldn't even register at most people's jobs could cost me my job, my reputation, and my community. Never mind that maybe it bothered me so much because I had such a generous supply of those flaws. After years of living under the steady gaze of critics and cranks, I see the fishbowl differently. These days I actually welcome it. Richard Baxter, a Puritan pastor in the 1600s, put it this way: “While you are as lights set upon a hill, think not to lie hid... do your work as those that remember that the world looks on them... ready to make the worst of all... and to make faults where they cannot find them.”[1] Baxter understood that anyone who calls others to live like Jesus is going to get called out when they don't. His advice? Live like the world is watching, because it is. Some people in your life are ready to yell "Hypocrite!" at the first opportunity, to point out failings they share themselves, and, as Baxter says, even to invent faults when they can't find real ones. And Baxter's fishbowl had a few neighbors peering over the fence. Ours has a livestream, a comment section, and someone screenshotting the announcements. But Baxter goes further. He says we should be glad about it: “As you take yourselves for the lights of the churches, you may expect that men's eyes will be upon you. If other men may sin without observation, so cannot you. And you should thankfully consider how great a mercy this is, that you have so many eyes to watch over you, and so many ready to tell you of your faults; and thus have greater helps than others, at least for restraining you from sin. Though they may do it with a malicious mind, yet you have the advantage of it.” As a Pastor, you have more eyes on you and more people paying attention to how you live. That means you have more help than most in living well and avoiding sin. What some people mean for evil, God means for your good (Genesis 50:20). What looks like a downside of ministry turns out to be a path to maturity, to formation. In practical terms, living your life in front of others pushes you to do what you already know you should do. And it often keeps you out of things you might slide into if nobody were watching. One important caveat: embracing accountability isn't the same as tolerating abuse. Healthy scrutiny sharpens you. A congregant who attacks your spouse or treats your kids like church property is a different problem, and it calls for boundaries, not gratitude. Let's be clear, though: the fishbowl isn't enough on its own. What we're really after is internal: character, a changed heart. But knowing we're living out loud in front of a watching church and a watching world gives us structure, and that structure can help us build the habits and rhythms of holiness we want. As we try to let the heart and character of Christ take deeper root in us, we have the advantage of lots of eyes around us "encouraging" us to stay on the straight and narrow. My sense is that people who embrace this find that, over time, what starts on the outside moves more and more to the inside. Slowly, the choices we make because others are watching become, through habit, real character. Because I know people are watching, I think twice about what I say in public, what I scroll past on my phone, and how I talk to my kids at church or out on the sidewalk in front of the neighbors. More and more, those choices, first made because of an audience, become part of who I am. That's especially true when I treat those moments as kairos [2] moments: times when God breaks in and uses my awareness of a watching world to show me the character He wants to form in me and the choices He'd like me to make. But what if we don't embrace it? What about those who get shipwrecked by moral failure, character flaws, and private sins gone public? People who resent the fishbowl of ministry and the Christian life often end up living one way in public and another in private. It's as if their anger at being scrutinized pushes them into a divided life: they'll play by the rules in public but insist on their own rules in private. Frustrated with the audience around them, so eager to find fault, they forget the true Audience they live before. And as we've all seen from too many spectacular crash-and-burns, the fallout is often devastating. Families, churches, and the reputation of the whole Church take serious damage. Pastors, recognize that your formation is happening, one way or another… and make peace with the fishbowl. It's going to be there whether you like it or not. If you embrace it, you may find it spurring you on toward love and good deeds (Hebrews 10:24) and keeping you clear of the sins that have taken down so many in ministry before you. “You should thankfully consider how great a mercy this is, that you have so many eyes to watch over you.” Let the Holy Spirit use your public life, and every eye watching it, to shape and form you. The fishbowl and the formation of a life in ministry are coming either way. Let them help answer the question: into what? To further explore your own formation through ministry, join us at the Multiply Summit with special guest Rich Villodas this coming February in the Washington, D.C. area! Adapted from Eldership and the Mission of God by Bob Hyatt and J.R. Briggs. [1] Richard Baxter, The Reformed Pastor, London, 1657, p. 21. [2] Kairos is one of the Greek words for time, but it's different from chronos. Chronos is linear, calendar time. Kairos refers to significant moments full of possibility. Here, it means those times when God steps into chronos.
By Bob Hyatt • April 13, 2026
Here's a message from Ecclesia Pastor Aaron Graham