Hope in a Time of Darkness

Reflections on Week 1 of Advent

This past Sunday marked the beginning of Advent, a time of hope and celebration as we look forward to the birth of Jesus. 

            But I’ll be honest, this year it’s been incredibly difficult to tap into this attitude of hopefulness over what’s to come. Even more so than last year I find myself exhausted and worn out from two years of pretty bleak global happenings. 

            Collectively, we’ve had so much to mourn. So many changes to process. So many structures to tear down so that we might start again in newer and better ways. Ways that are life giving for all. 

            And while there have been pockets of hope, places where I see glimmers of what the Advent season brings into being, a new world where true justice exists. A place where those who have been pushed aside by society and power structures are seen and called by name, counted as precious…

            It’s also been a time of despair. A time of weeping and mourning. A time of questioning. Something that I think has left a mark on all of us.  

            So when I read through this year’s selection of passages for the first Sunday of Advent, I found it incredibly fitting that Psalm 25:1-10 was on the list. 

            In Psalm 25:2-3 David writes, “I trust in you; do not let me be put to shame, nor let my enemies triumph over me. No one who hopes in you will ever be put to shame…”

            If you look at the Hebrew text, the verb קֹ֭וֶיךָ (qoweka) that the NIV translates as “hopes in you” can also mean “waits on you.” 

            I love that this week’s reading shows a very real and relatable example of what the process of waiting on and hoping in the Lord can be like. 

            Yes, we can trust in God’s promises. But sometimes the wait is lengthy. Sometimes it’s messy and painful. 

            Sometimes, the very last thing we feel is hopeful. So all we can say is, “God don’t let it all be in vain. Don’t let me be put to shame.” 

            This idea perfectly captures how I feel going into this Advent season. Do I still believe in God? Yeah. 

            But are there times where I just feel weary and can only pray “enough Lord. Please no more sorrow. Please God bring us joy or at the very least relief.” 

Absolutely.

            This view of waiting and clinging to the last threads of hope makes me think of the poet’s words in Lamentations 3, in particular verses 19-26. 

            The author of this poem is recalling the destruction of Jerusalem in 587 BC at the hands of the Babylonians. The horror and atrocities the people suffered are far more than many of us could imagine. 

            And yet the author still clings to the smallest shreds of hope. Choosing to say, “Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him…” (verses 21-25)

            There are echoes of David’s words in Psalm 25. There’s an honesty about suffering and hope that is comforting to me. Yes we can trust in God’s goodness, but we can also acknowledge the weariness we feel. 

            Even as we acknowledge that we are choosing to trust in God’s promises, we can also say, “God I feel like I’ve been trampled into the dust.” 

            The beautiful thing about God is that there is space for both in our prayers. We don’t have to choose hope and ignore our very real emotions and experiences that have left us in places of darkness or despair. 

            Advent doesn’t mean a month of ignoring our realities, the suffering and pain or loneliness that can happen during the holiday season. 

            Instead, we move into a space that resembles the words spoken by Isaiah in chapter 9 verse 2. “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.”

            In our pain. In our sorrow. In our mourning. We can cling to hope because there’s the smallest glimmer of light that’s bursting into the world during Advent. 

            It’s the season when “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.” (John 1:14) We are not left alone in this world, because God came to us. God became fully human and experienced all that we feel. 

            So if you’re not feeling very Christmasy this year, that’s okay. If you struggle to find the joy and hope this year, that’s okay. 

            Just remember this is the season where the God who loves you and calls you by name willingly chose to enter into all of the pain and suffering in this world to give us hope. To give us life. To show us what true freedom and love looks like.

To say to us all, “I am here with you. I will never leave you or abandon you.”

            May that give you just the smallest bit of hope to hold on to. May that reality light your path forward through the holiday season and into the new year. 

            May you find pockets of peace and rest in the waiting, even when the waiting is difficult and painful. May you know that choosing to hope in the Lord will never bring you to shame.