REFLECTION:

To give a bit of context to the reading.

As Israel camps on the plains of Moab, they are still a people in between—between slavery and freedom, promise and fulfillment, fear and hope. Balak looks at them and sees a threat. But when Balaam lifts his eyes, “the spirit of God came upon him,” and instead of a curse, he speaks a blessing.

Israel is described as gardens beside a river, trees planted by the Lord—images of life that grow slowly and steadily. God is already at work among His people, even though they have not yet reached their destination. What appears unfinished is, in fact, being prepared.

Then Balaam speaks words that belong to Advent: “I see him, though not now; I behold him, though not near.” This is the language of waiting. God’s promise is real, but not immediate. Hope is certain, but still unfolding.

Out of that waiting comes the promise of light: “A star shall rise out of Jacob.” The star does not rush the night away. It rises in the darkness, quietly marking the path God is preparing. Advent teaches us the same posture—patient expectation, watchfulness, and trust in what God is bringing to completion.

That promised star will one day appear again, guiding hearts toward Bethlehem. But before it leads to the manger, it teaches us how to wait. God does not arrive on our schedule. He comes in His own time, often in ways we do not expect—small, hidden, and humble.

Advent is the season of learning to live in that space between promise and fulfillment. Like Israel, we are still on the journey. Like Balaam, we are invited to lift our eyes and notice where God’s light is already shining.

The star has been promised.
The night has not yet passed.
But the light is rising.

And Advent reminds us: those who wait in hope will not be disappointed.