See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight—indeed, he is coming, says the LORD of hosts. But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner’s fire and like washers’ soap; … [Malachi 3:1-2].
In our front hallway hangs a family treasure—a quilt crafted by Jane’s great-grandmother, Bessie Walker, around 1895. Within its carefully preserved squares lie fragments of Jane’s family story: a scrap bearing the name “Mineola,” remembering Bessie’s daughter taken too young; a beautiful white cotton cross, surrounded by embroidered Easter Lillies; delicate butterflies that connected generations of women in her family; a bold “W” representing Bessie’s new surname when, on June 8, 1881, she married Peter Gautier Walker. Some thirty-five years ago, this precious heirloom underwent careful restoration—a gentle cleaning that preserved and revealed these tender connections across time.
In this Sunday’s alternate Old Testament reading [Malachi 3:1-4, Second Sunday of Advent, RCL, Year C], the prophet Malachi—whose very name means “messenger” —speaks of cleansing too, but not just the gentle kind. While the world around us rushes to prepare for holidays, the messenger presents us with two powerful images that point to God’s work: the launderer’s soap and the refiner’s fire. One cleanses, the other transforms. One maintains, the other reforms.
My commentaries suggest that in the Hebrew text, there’s an echo between the word for soap (borît) and the word for covenant (berît). It’s as if the text is whispering to us that sometimes restoration to covenant faithfulness comes through gentle cleansing, like the careful preservation of Bessie’s quilt. But there are other moments when such gentle means prove insufficient, when the impurities lie deep beneath the surface. Then there is need for the refiner’s fire.
To be sure, such fire isn’t punishment—it’s purification. Skilled refiners don’t destroy; they transform. They heat the precious metal just enough to separate what’s valuable from what isn’t, all the while carefully watching over the process. And here’s a challenging truth: like precious metal in the refiner’s hands, we don’t get to choose which process we need, or when we need it. Soap, fire, or both—the timing and method belong to God alone.
As twenty-first century Christians, we live within the “already, but not yet” —that space between Christ’s first advent and His return in glory. This in-between time mirrors how God works with His people: we are already His, yet we are still being transformed; already loved, yet still being refined. Like the dual images of soap and fire, this tension speaks to the nature of God’s work in us—both maintaining what He has already established and transforming what awaits completion. While the world around us reduces Advent—that special time of waiting—to a countdown of shopping days, Malachi points us toward a deeper reality.
The Gospel reading for the Second Sunday of Advent always features John the Baptist, and this year’s lectionary pairs our Malachi text with Luke’s introduction of the New Testament prophet [Luke 3:1-6]. When John proclaims that “all flesh shall see the salvation of God” [Luke 3:6], he echoes and amplifies Malachi’s vision. Both prophets speak of preparation, but John’s declaration reveals the universal scope of God’s transformative work. Where Malachi focuses on the refining of the Levites for temple service, John expands this vision—all flesh shall see God’s salvation. Like the ancient prophet, the Baptizer understands that divine presence reaches beyond surface preparation to fundamental transformation. His call to prepare the way of the Lord speaks to how God works in history—past, present, and future—to shape not just a select few, but a whole people for His kingdom.
Our eyes are drawn back to Bessie’s quilt. Beyond the obvious treasures—Mineola’s name, the cherished butterflies, the family initial—other pieces bear cryptic inscriptions and forgotten references, fragments of stories yearning to be understood. Some of these mysteries revealed themselves during the restoration process, as careful cleaning made faded words legible again. Others remain enigmatic, their meanings preserved for future discovery.
In the same way, we carry within ourselves aspects yet unrevealed, depths that only God sees clearly, potential that awaits His transforming touch. Sometimes His gentle daily grace reveals gifts we never knew we had; other times, His refining fire uncovers strengths we never imagined. Like the quilt’s careful restoration, which preserved both the clear and the mysterious elements, God’s work in us honors both what we understand of ourselves and what remains hidden.
This pattern of preservation and revelation reflects our journey between Christ’s first and second advent. Just as the quilt holds both known stories and waiting mysteries, we live in the tension between what God has already accomplished in us and what He is yet to complete. The careful restoration of Bessie’s quilt didn’t alter its essential nature but revealed its fuller meaning. Similarly, God’s transforming work doesn’t destroy who we are but reveals who He created us to be.
In a culture that rushes past waiting, that tries to skip straight to celebration, Malachi’s vision calls us to embrace this time between times. The prophet sees beyond individual moments of cleansing or transformation to God’s larger purpose: the preparation of a people who will offer righteousness to the Lord. Like a master craftsman, God works with both gentleness and power, preserving what is precious while transforming what must be made new.
This connects to Malachi’s broader prophetic message. The God who works through both soap and fire is the same God who promises to “suddenly come to his temple.” This is no distant deity content with surface cleaning, but the Lord of hosts who engages intimately with His people’s transformation. The refinement he brings isn’t merely about personal improvement—it’s about preparing a community that can stand when He appears, a people ready for covenant faithfulness.
As we move through Advent, we’re invited into this larger story. The hidden meanings in Bessie’s quilt point to something profound about our own journey—there is always more to be revealed, always deeper work to be done. Yet this work isn’t just about us as individuals. God is preparing a people, building a community that can “present offerings in righteousness.” Perhaps this is why the prophet pairs these images—the communal work of launderers who maintain garments for the whole community, and refiners who purify precious metal for temple worship.
In this season of waiting, as the world rushes toward festivity, we’re called to trust the God who works in multiple ways toward this greater purpose. Like those cryptic pieces in Bessie’s quilt, we may not yet understand all that God sees in us, all that He intends to reveal and transform. But we can trust the divine Refiner who knows exactly what we need, who watches carefully, who stays present until His work is complete—not just in us as individuals, but in the whole community of His people.
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