A Healing Advent: Hope
“Christmas time is here, happiness and cheer.” It’s the refrain of the season. Merry lights are hung causing the darkness of the winter months to seem a little less glum. Stories are told encouraging people not to be a “grinch” or a “scrooge.” No, instead we are to, “Spread Christmas cheer by singing loud for all to hear.” Yet, if most of us were honest, the mere singing of Christmas carols at any volume is not enough to drown out the noise of evil, violence, and brokenness that seems to surround us. The commercials may be cheery enough, but the news remains as full of doom as it was before the Christmas season began. Wars and rumors of wars fill our ears. Our own suffering and pain does not disappear as we hang the first bough of garland. For those of us who follow Jesus, who celebrate Christmas as far more than a day of gift exchanging and cookie eating, how are we to engage in this world of shiny lights and gleeful choruses? I believe the first week of advent answers this question for us - we hope.
I’m not sure who chose the thematic words for the four weeks of advent, and I didn’t bother to look it up, but I am fairly certain that whoever did so intentionally placed hope at the beginning. For without engaging in hope, we cannot possibly experience peace, joy, or love, at least not in this broken world in which we live. To experience peace, joy, and love, we must first engage in an incarnational hope that points us to our incarnational God. See, the hope of advent, the hope not only spoken of but lived out by the writers of scripture, is one that does not bury its head behind a wall of Christmas lights. It is not a naive optimism that chooses to ignore brokenness and darkness. No, it is a nitty gritty sort of hope that gives voice to the pain. The hope of advent points to the incarnation of Christ by being itself incarnational. It is messy, earthy, and fully aware of the suffering around us.
Two of the lectionary texts for this year’s first Sunday of advent give voice to this sort of hope. As you begin journeying through advent, I invite you to read Isaiah 64:1-9 and Psalm 80:1-19. In these two passages we receive a powerful picture of what biblical hope looks, and perhaps more accurately, sounds like. Hint, it doesn’t really sound like a resounding chorus of happiness and cheer. Isaiah 64 begins with a desperate cry, “If only you would tear open the heavens and come down!” Psalm 80 begins similarly, “Shepherd of Israel, listen!” Both Isaiah and the Psalmist are desperate for God to be present with them, to be the God who listens, the God who cares, the God who sees. Isaiah 64 and Psalm 80 are filled with descriptions of pain and suffering. They do not hide behind a chorus of niceties or pretend the world is perfect. In fact, it is in their desperate cries to God that we hear their hope. Isaiah and the psalmist seem to hold to the hope that if God would look upon the people they would be healed. The repeated refrain in the carol of the psalmist is, “Restore us, Oh God, make your face shine upon us that we might be saved.” Isaiah similarly writes, “Gaze now on your people.” Without first acknowledging the brokenness around them, these calls mean little. Set in the midst of descriptions of darkness, these calls overflow with hope that the gaze of the Lord will dispel the darkness and bring light.
This is the hope we are invited to practice this advent. One that asks the Lord to listen to the cries of our war torn world, one that yearns for him to tear open the heavens and come down, one that is desperate for his gaze to fall upon us that we might be saved. It is an incarnational hope pointing to our incarnate God. As you go through this week, try the following spiritual practice to help root yourself in hope:
Living an Incarnational Hope:
When you hear a piece of bad news, see or experience a moment of suffering, pause.
Name the pain, injustice, or source of grief.
Ask God for what you need. Do you need him to hear your anger about the situation? Do you need him to see your tears? Do you need him to come close to you?
Repeat to yourself this refrain from Psalm 80, replace the word “us” with the person or situation you are praying for: “Restore us, Oh God, make your face shine upon us that we might be saved.”
The hope of advent points to the incarnation of Christ by being itself incarnational. It is messy, earthy, and fully aware of the suffering around us.
