Emily Dickinson poetically describes hope as a songbird when she wrote the famous lines, “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all.” This is a beautiful sentiment, but does it hold up to the hardships of life that so often crush our hopes and dreams? In the face of the terminal diagnosis, of broken families, of unjust suffering that pervades this world, does the sweet songbird really offer solace? There comes a time when no poetic truisms or nice sentiments will bring any comfort. There comes those dark times in life, in the face of profound suffering, where we really do feel hopeless.

But thank God that the Christian hope is not a fragile songbird. Peter describes the persecuted Christians of his day as “born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Pet. 1:3). Our hope is not based on optimism or positive thinking. Our hope is based on the God who brings light out of darkness (2 Cor. 4:6), good out of evil (Gen. 50:20), and who raises the dead. The people of God in the Old Testament hoped for the Messiah to come and save them. Much in the same way, we know that one day He will come again to get rid of suffering and injustice—to make all things as they should be (Rev. 21:1–4). We can believe in His second coming (or “Advent”) because of His first coming. He has come once and defeated Sin, Death, and the Devil; soon, He will come again to completely destroy Sin, Death, and the Devil. And we can believe these words “because they are trustworthy and true” (Rev. 21:5).

So, if you’re feeling hopeless this season, that’s okay. That’s exactly the place God will meet you to give you the kind of hope nothing else can.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION

How is the way the wider culture sees hope different from the Christian message?

Where do you turn when you’re feeling hopeless?

How can we continually assure ourselves of the sure hope of Jesus’s coming again?

Do we live our daily lives in light of the fact that God will one day make all things right?

When I think of a context that is void of peace, I think of a place that is restless. I think of a setting unsettled. When we become anxious all we seem to do is focus on the noises, inconsistencies, and unrest around us. Yet, instead of asking to receive the peace of Christ, we ask for a breakthrough of calmer seas. But, the Christmas story shows us the gift of Gospel Peace.

Consider this: the story of Christ’s arrival was anything but peaceful. Mary and Joseph were sojourners, homeless on the day of delivery. And yet, this is the moment where peace entered in its most profound and meek manor. The long awaited Messiah arrived on a dark night, in the midst of a painful labor, in an unsanitary stable; securing the Light’s first foothold against the darkness. Nothing about His arrival was calm or curated! But the Hope of a Savior was born in the midst of the chaos.

What this tells us about the very nature of peace is that we can not generate it. Namaste tends to stay on the yoga mat; breathing exercises work until the enemy knocks the air out of your lungs again. Furthermore, smoother seas never bring about TRUE peace! Even in times of plenty our restless hearts find a way to be anxious, discontent, and dissatisfied. Praise the Lord, He offers something far better!

Peace is externally received, but is internally preserved. The Peace of Christ rests upon His children, even as we are sojourners, like a cloak from the King. From Him alone we accept comfort and contentment! And because of the hope that Christ secured in His first arrival, and assures in His next, our peace is preserved throughout all ages, elections, seasons, sicknesses, calamities, and controversies.

Take heart! We have seen A Great Light, and His name is the Prince of Peace.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION

What is peace according to the Bible?

Where do you find peace?

How can we experience peace by trusting God?

The Gospel writers’ accounts of the incarnation – the fact that Jesus Christ became a human being – provide us a diamond, a gem that can be viewed and appreciated from many angles, no angle less brilliant than the other. One brilliant picture of the incarnation is found in John’s first chapter as he breaks out in poetic prose, exclaiming “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” Paul will later remark that we see God’s love for humanity on the cross, and we certainly will. But we also see God’s love for humanity in his choice to dwell among us. It takes a great deal of love to dwell among people – one bad roommate will teach you this lesson! Jesus’s love for humanity is so strong that He would choose to be born as a baby, enduring the pain, sorrow, and difficulty of life in the Roman Empire. We are the benefactors of this incarnation – as John exclaims: “For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” The African bishop St. Athanasius reflects – “It is we who were the cause of His taking human form, and for our salvation that in His great love He was both born and manifested in a human body.”

This advent, we have the opportunity to reflect on a God who loves us so much that He would, as Eugene Peterson would note, “move into the neighborhood.” As we reflect on that love, it begs the question: Who are we dwelling with? Are we willing to move into their neighborhood? May the love of Christ comfort us and compel us to dwell with the suffering in this Advent season.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION

God’s love for us is tangible, not abstract. How have you tangibly seen God’s love this Advent?

How does Christ’s love for you comfort you this Advent?

How does Christ’s love for you compel you to serve this Advent? Who in your life needs someone to move into their neighborhood?