Hope is Here

 In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2 This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3 All went to their own towns to be registered. 4 Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5 He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no place in the guest room.[a]

The Shepherds and the Angels

8 Now in that same region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah,[b] the Lord. 12 This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host,[c] praising God and saying,

14 

“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
    and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”[d]

15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16 So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph and the child lying in the manger. 17 When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them, 19 and Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told them.

***

There’s a Christmas hymn that I love in our hymnal, number 242, Love Came Down at Christmas, by Christina Rosetti. It’s not as popular as other hymns like O Come, All Ye Faithful, Joy to the World, or Silent Night. But it is a sweet tune with sweet lyrics: “Love came down at Christmas / Love all lovely, Love Divine/ Love was born at Christmas/ star and angels gave the sign.”

I love this hymn, because it reminds us that at the birth of Christ, the love of God was born into the world. In fact, the second verse names this love “Love incarnate, Love divine.” The love of God is tangible in this moment.  We can hold it. Comfort it. Speak to it. Know it. 

But, as we’ve talked about hope this entire Advent, for today’s sermon I would change Christina Rosetti’s lyrics. “Hope came down at Christmas / Hope all lovely, Hope Divine / Hope was born at Christmas / star and angels gave the sign.” 

Hope is here. Hope incarnate. Hope divine. We can hold it. Comfort it. Speak to it. Know it. 

Perhaps this hope is most deeply felt in the reaction of the shepherds. We see them in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks, when all of the sudden an angel of the Lord appears. Like Mary at the annunciation, these shepherds are terrified at first. We can’t really blame them for being frightened. It would be absolutely startling and terrifying to have an angel just appear before you and have the “glory of the Lord” shine around you. 

There’s a song that I discovered recently from country music artist Tyler Childers, titled Luke 2:8-10, that is a tongue and cheek look at the shepherds’ reaction in this moment, rightfully capturing their terror with the line: “My God, it’s the end of the world!” 

But, the angel tells them to not be afraid, for there is good news. The Savior has been born. The angel tells them where to find this new baby, in Bethlehem, and how they’ll find him, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. Then one angel is joined by a multitude, praising God. Then the angels leave and the shepherds, probably still in a bit of shock, hasten to Bethlehem. 

Something to note about the visitation of the angel, this is the first time in the Lukan Gospel where we see the term “Good News” used. This good news is good news that will provide great joy. The Messiah is born. The Savior is born! Good news indeed! Because the good news is that the promise of God has been fulfilled. Hope is here! Hope is here indeed! 

Hope is here in the form of a baby. 

And, you know, maybe Childers has it right. That very hope that is here with us now is the end of the world. Because that hope has entered in and nothing will ever be the same. 

We know nothing will be the same when the angelic announcement names the baby Jesus as, “A savior, who is the Messiah, The Lord.” One of the commentaries I read points out that this is the only time in the gospels where these three titles (Savior, Messiah, and Lord) appear together, thus painting a full picture of who this baby is, and just why his birth is so hopeful and world changing. 

Savior was used in the Septuagint (the Greek version of the Old Testament that Luke would have known) to refer both to God and to those God sends to liberate Israel. That liberation is both spiritual and political. Saviors free people from oppression so they can freely serve and obey God. Think Moses, sent by God to lead the people out of Egypt. The Israeilites were both freed from slavery and freed to worship God. So the angel declaring this baby Jesus as the Savior is a promise that the people will be freed. Politically, they will be freed from the oppression of the Roman Empire. Spiritually, from the oppression of sin and death. 

This baby is the Savior. This baby will free us. Therefore we can have hope. 

But this baby is not just the Savior, this baby is also the Messiah. Messiah meaning “anointed one.” Fun fact, the Greek equivalent of Messiah is “Christ.” This is where we get the title “Christ” for Jesus. Now Messiah is closely related to Savior, in the sense that the Messiah would be one who freed people from oppression. But it’s different in the sense that, overtime, there was a growing expectation that there would be a final Messiah, anointed by God and God alone, who would bring about God’s final reign and give the people of God their final victory over all their enemies. A Savior would deliver them. The Messiah would be the one to save them for all eternity. This is who Jesus is. Jesus is the Messiah that was promised, the fulfillment of the promise to Abarahm, the one who would restore the throne of David and the people of Israel to final power, doing away with injustice and oppression for all time! 

This baby is the promised Messiah. This baby will bring victory! Therefore we can have hope. 

But finally, this baby is also Lord. Perhaps the most obvious one to us. Lord, the word used most often in the Septuagint to translate the tetragrammaton, or God’s holy and personal name (YHWH). This is a sign!  Jesus is not just another human in a long line of saviors and liberators. He’s not just one more human claiming to be the Messiah. Jesus is Lord. Jesus is God. 

This baby is God! God is with us! Therefore we can have hope! 

And what’s so amazing about this hope? Is that it’s a quiet hope. It’s an unassuming hope. This hope was not born in a palace. This hope was not born to great fanfare announced throughout the city. This hope was born in a stable. This hope is laid in a manger. The fanfare happened on the outskirts of the city, told first to common folk! There is a great reversal here. The Gospel, the Good News, comes with a bit of upside-downness. Last will be first, poor will be filled and all that. This is hope for all people! This is hope for the least of these! This is hope for the most common of folk. This is hope for all who hear it! 

Our Savior is here! Our Messiah is here! Our Lord is here! We have hope!

The shepherds turn from fear to hope and run to Bethlehem. They encounter Jesus and his family, and tell Mary all the good news that they have heard. She, for her turn, treasures them and pondered them in her heart. I have always liked Mary’s pondering here. Because I think it shows us that what the shepherds have told her surprises her in a way, and offers her a renewed hope. It’s been a full nine months, maybe more, since Gabriel came to her and told her she would be carrying the Son of the Most High, bearing the one who would be given the throne of David in the world. While I am sure Mary never forgot exactly who this baby was, she, Joseph, and Elizabeth are really the only ones who know exactly who this baby is. Perhaps Zechariah, too, but we never see Elizabeth actually tell him about Mary’s visit. But now, there are more people who know! And there are more people who believe in the hope that her child brings! She was not mistaken. Nothing happened to change God’s mind in the course of her pregnancy. This baby is exactly who she was told he would be. What hope! Renewed and refreshed hope! It is here! 

The hope of Jesus’ birth is not contained in first century Bethlehem. It doesn’t just affect shepherds, carpenters, virgin mothers, and wise men. It is not a hope that comes one day and is gone the next. This hope is a hope that stays. It is a hope that reverberates throughout all of time. It is a hope that broke into the world and never left. It is a hope that draws us together tonight, next week, next month, next year, and all the years to follow. It is a hope that touches our lives just as powerfully as it touched the lives of those present on that first Christmas. It is a hope that reminds us our Savior, our Messiah, our Lord loved this world so much that he chose to come and be with us. 

He chose to be born into this messy world. Into this chaotic world. Into this oftentimes hopeless world. Because he loves this world and its people so much that he needed to offer them hope. A hope that says “My God, it’s the end of the world. Because you have come. Hope is here. It’ll never be the same.” 

Friends, our encouragement for this Christmas is to remind ourselves that, in the midst of this world that often offers us hopelessness, that hope is here. Hope is here. Hope broke into this world in the body of a baby, born so long ago in Bethlehem. Hope stayed in this world as that baby grew up and taught us how to love one another. Hope established itself in the incarnation of God in Jesus, who lived among us and walked with us. Hope overcame hopelessness in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Spoiler alert on that one. 

Hope stays in this world because we carry it, we bear it, we show it to the world. In Christ we are invited to participate in this hope. We are invited to share this hope with others. To hold the candle of this hope high and pierce through the night time of hopelessness. As the people drawn together by this hope it is our responsibility, and really our joy, to go and declare this hope to the world. We should be like those shepherds on that first Christmas. Hearing the good news, hearing that Gospel, and immediately running with it. Running to confirm it for ourselves. Running to tell anyone who will listen about it. We are the ones who get to declare “Hope is here! It has been here since that first Christmas, when Jesus Christ was born! It has been here all throughout time! It has not left us! It will never leave us! Hope will never leave us!” 

Hope came down at Christmas. Hope all lovely. Hope divine. Hope came down at Christmas! Hope is here! Always and forever! Thanks be to God.

Looking For Hope in a Hopeless World: Hope and Promise

Luke 1:26-38

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called the Son of God. And now, your relative, Elizabeth, in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.” Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her. 

***

Promises. There’s that old saying “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Promises are declarations of assurance that something will happen. How many movies have we seen where the hero promise that everyone is going to be alright, only to be wracked with guilt and grief when not everyone makes it out? Or how many times did we “pinky promise” something as a child, only to not follow through on that pinky promise? There are certainly plenty of people who I pinky promised I’d be “friends forever” with in elementary school, who I’ve lost contact with now.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep” is a lesson in being trustworthy. People put stock in promises. People care about promises. So, be careful when you promise something, unless you know with almost 100% certainty that it’s going to happen. I would say you could always promise something like “I promise we’ll have Christmas Eve service every single year!” but then I think about last year where churches had to cancel Christmas Eve services due to a snow storm and unsafe driving conditions. Broken promises can hurt people. Broken promises can make people not trust you. Broken trust can lead to dashed hopes. It can lead to more hopelessness in this world. 

So the saying, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep!” is actually really great advice, when you think about it. 

So why, today, are we talking about Hope and Promises? 

Well, because today we see a promise kept begin to come to fruition. 

So last week we sort of jumped ahead in time in the story leading up to Christmas by looking at Mary’s Song, the Magnificat, when she meets with Elizabeth, her cousin. Mary’s visit to Elizabeth comes after the angel Gabriel has appeared to her, announcing that she will give birth to the Son of the Most High. This week, we’re at the annunciation. 

This particular biblical scene is familiar to us. We often imagine Mary doing something completely normal. Sitting outside, maybe cooking, maybe doing laundry. And then all of the sudden the angel Gabriel appears to her! She is much perplexed, our translation reads, though a better translation of the Greek word Luke uses here is “terrified.” She is terrified. Of course she would be, an angel has just appeared to her! That doesn’t just happen to everyone! 

Sure, Mary would have been familiar with the stories of angels appearing to the likes of Abraham, Lot, Gideon, Elijah, Isaiah, Ezekiel, even Hagar and Ishmael! But those were important figures in the history of the Hebrew people! Patriarchs and prophets! Warriors and foundations of whole nations and peoples! Why would an angel be appearing to a woman of little importance who lives in an insignificant town in a little thought of region? Seriously, Galilee is of so little importance that the Gospels are the only documents in this time period that mention it. It can barely even be counted as a town! 

Plus, Mary has no reason to assume she’s anyone special. She’s just an ordinary young woman. Yes, she has connections to the priestly class, since her relative Elizabeth is married to the priest Zechariah, but that’s really the most significant relation we know she has! She’s engaged to a man, Joseph, who’s of the line of David, but he’s a carpenter! Hardly a person with a lot of power and connection. 

So why would an angel be appearing to Mary in Galilee? Of course she’s terrified! Of course she’s perplexed!

And then the angel, Gabriel, announces the news to Mary. Though a virgin, she will bear a son, who will be the Son of the Most High. The son of God! The Holy Spirit will overcome her and she will conceive. Here  we have the astounding truth of the angel’s visit. The promise of God is coming to fruition. A child will be born! A savior for the people! And Mary will be the one to bring him into the world. Mary, this young woman of no consequence from a town of no importance joins the ranks of the important folks visited by an angel. And maybe not even joins the ranks, but becomes the most important person in the history of the world to be visited by an angel. 

The promise of God is coming to fruition. 

I have always appreciated that Luke tells the story of God’s promise through the annunciation to Mary, that he takes seriously the fact it is through Mary’s pregnancy that Jesus will come into the world. Because, I think, it captures the hope of the Savior’s coming so perfectly. Not only because, most of the time, pregnancy is a hopeful and joyful thing, but also because it follows in the vein of hopeful pregnancies we see throughout Scripture. 

We begin in Genesis 18, with the promise of a son to Abraham. Abraham, visited by angels, is told that Sarah shall have a son the next time the angels come to visit. Sarah, Abraham’s barren wife who could not conceive a child. Sarah, who gave Abraham her handmaiden, Hagar, in order to carry on his line. She will have a son. Sarah, who is listening at the tent and laughs at this promise of God. Yet we later read that “The Lord deals with Sarah as he said,” and she conceives and bears a healthy son. Isaac. Isaac, whose own wife, Rebekkah, was barren, but the promise of the Lord to Abraham endures, and Rebekkah eventually gives birth to twins. One of those twins is Jacob, who has two wives, Rachel and Leah. Rachel, the favorite, is barren. Until God opens her womb and she gives birth to Joseph, through whom the Hebrew people come to Egypt in order to survive a famine. Later in the history of Israel, we see the story of Manoah, the mother of Samson. An angel appears to her and delivers the news that she, though barren, will conceive and bear a son, who will “deliver Israel from the hand of the Philistines.” The book of First Samuel opens with the story of Hannah, barren, mother of Samuel, the prophet who helps birth the United Kingdom of Israel. There are other stories like this. But when we enter into the New Testament, the Gospel of Luke, we see the story of Mary’s relation, Elizabeth, and her husband Zechariah. An angel tells Zechariah that Elizabeth will conceive and bear a son in her old age. That son is John the Baptist, the one who will prepare the way for Christ, the Savior. 

I trace this history of promise through our scriptures because it points to the fact that God overcomes barrenness in the Bible as a means of fulfilling promises to God’s people. Abraham is promised multiple generations, Sarah conceives and has Isaac. The people need deliverance from a famine? Well, Joseph, son of a barren Rachel, is the one who brings them to a place where they will be fed. The people need to be saved from the Philistines? Manoah, barren, gives birth to Samson, the judge to deliver them. God’s ultimate promise is that the Israelites will never be abandoned by God. God will always be with them. God will help them endure every hardship, and that promise is often fulfilled through the birth of a son to a woman who was barren. A woman who had a personal hardship she had to endure. 

A commentary I read on this subject while I was in seminary pointed to the fact that our scriptures show God overcoming barrenness when the resulting child is one to pay attention to, especially when a single man has multiple sons. Abraham has Ishamel, but it is Isaac who is more important to the story of the Hebrew people. Jacob has 12 sons, but it is Joseph to whom we should pay attention. The promise of God being fulfilled, despite the obstacle of infertility, means that this child will be one to watch. 

Which brings us back to Mary. Because, arguably, virginity is a much greater obstacle to overcome than barrenness when it comes to conceiving a child. That’s the argument. Because a virgin is not trying to conceive. A barren woman would be. Another commentary I read stated that Zchariah and Elizabeth are shocked by the news that Elizabeth will give birth to a son, but it’s also reasonable to assume that they have tried to have a child. Mary has not. Mary is not in a position to even think of having a child. And yet, God is blessing her with a child, anyway. That greater barrier has been overcome. A child will be born. And, like the children born to barren women, this baby will be one to watch. But also, he will be even greater. This baby is the one to watch. This baby is the Savior of the world. 

And the promise that’s being delivered on here is that answer to Mary’s question, “But how can this be?” Gabriel’s explanation ends with the words, “For nothing will be impossible with God.” 

For nothing will be impossible with God. 

These are words of hope. These are words of promise. 

This season of Advent we’ve been talking about looking for hope in a hopeless world. In the Annunciation, we have our ultimate answer about where we should be looking for hope. We need to look for hope in God, and in the promises of God. And we’ve said this for the past three weeks, that when we look to God, we will find hope. That God will not disappoint us. That God will not forsake us. That in the entirety of this hopeless world, God is who we can look to for hope. Because, unlike all the powers of the world that promise us hope, when God makes promises, God keeps them. And when God makes promises, there is no obstacle that God cannot overcome. 

God promised a Savior for the people of Israel. Now the Savior is coming. 

Let’s look at a promise that God made to the people in the time surrounding the Babylonian exile, back in Isaiah. Isaiah 7:14, very specifically, is a verse that Matthew pulls out in his narration about the birth of Christ: “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel.” The NRSV translation of Isaiah 7:14 says “Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel.” Matthew uses the promise in Isaiah 7:14 to show that Mary’s pregnancy is a fulfillment of a promise made to the people of Israel a long, long time ago. When their new, frightened King, Ahaz, was unsure of how to lead, and the prophet Isaiah told him to trust in God and ask for a sign. Ahaz refuses, but God gives a sign anyway. And this is the sign God gives. Now, there’s a lot of evidence of this sign being fulfilled in Isaiah’s time. Israel was delivered from Babylon. Young women bore children. But what happened in early Judaism is that the expectation of a Messiah arose among people. There were those who discerned that God’s promises of deliverance would come through an end of time Savior, who would bring peace and happiness to the people. And while this expectation was probably not as central to Judaism as we think it was, there were those of the Jewish faith waiting for a Messiah, having hope in this promise of God. 

And this promise of God in Isaiah 7:14, that a young woman (or virgin) would give birth became a sign of the Messiah. When a virgin gives birth, that is the child we are waiting for. That child is the one described in Isaiah 9:6 “For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests on his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” and in Isaiah 11:6, where a little child leads the wolf to live with the lamb. 

And I do want to note that there are different ways that different faith traditions interpret these verses. Some faith traditions may not read this as a promise of an end-times Savior at all, and rather as historical prophecies that came to fruition in Isaiah’s time. Others may see it as the promise of the Savior, but not connect it to Jesus. 

But, as Christians, we have inherited the scriptural interpretation that these passages from Isaiah are talking about Jesus. These are the scriptures pertaining to the Messiah, to the coming savior. These are the promises of God. A holy child. A child to save the people. A savior, born to a young woman, a virgin. 

This promise may seem so impossible! How can this be? 

And yet, today we see that it is possible. This promise is possible, because it is God who promised it. No matter how impossible or improbable the promise seems, no matter how illogical or unrealistic, we find today that God will always find a way. God will always find a way to keep God’s promises. 

We are anticipating the birth of a Savior. Later today, we will gather once again and welcome the newborn Christ into the world. We will see the promise of God come true, as incarnate hope and love is born in the world. We will gather to witness to the fact that when it comes to God, promises are always kept. That in God, truly nothing is impossible. 

The lesson I found in this scripture for today, when thinking about hoping in the midst of hopelessness is this: Have hope in God’s promises. Put your hope in God, because when God promises something, there is no obstacle so great as to stop God. Nothing will get in the way of God fulfilling promises.

Though, the way the promise is fulfilled may look different than we expect. I’m sure Mary didn’t expect that she would be the one to bear the Savior into the world. I’m sure Mary didn’t think about the promise of a Messiah coming quite in the way that it did. But God still fulfilled the promise of a Savior for the people. Nothing got in the way of God fulfilling that promise. 

As I mentioned earlier, this season we’ve been talking about looking for hope in a hopeless world. And we’ve talked about how we need hope, though it may be hard to hope. We’ve talked about looking for hope in unexpected places, because that’s where hope sometimes shows up. Last week, we talked about how finding those moments of joy can give us hope. And today we sum it all up with this: Hope is found in the promise of God.

Hope is found in the promise of God. Because the promise of God is not like those pinkie promises we make as children, which may or may not come to fruition. The promise of God will always find a way. The promise of God will always come to fruition. God’s promises are always kept. 

For nothing is impossible with God.

Looking For Hope in a Hopeless World: Hope and Joy

We had a baptism and confirmations on Joy Sunday. This sermon incorporates those into our talking about hope.

***

Luke 1:46-55

And Mary said, 

“My soul magnifies the Lord, 

and my spirit rejoices in God my 

Savior,

for he has looked with favor on the

lowliness of his servant. 

Surely, from now on all generations will 

call me blessed; 

for the Mighty One has done great things 

for me,

and holy is his name. 

His mercy is for those who fear him 

from generation to generation. 

He has shown strength with his arm;

he has scattered the proud in the 

thoughts of their hearts. 

He has brought down the powerful from 

their thrones, 

and lifted up the lowly; 

he has filled the hungry with good

things, 

and sent the rich away empty. 

He has helped his servant Israel, 

in remembrance of his mercy, 

according to the promise he made to our 

ancestors, 

to Abraham and to his descendents forever.” 

***

Joy.

What great joy we have on this day! Confirmations of faith! A baptism! There is much celebration. Much joy. Much hope. 

I want to keep this reflection short, because we have had a full service. But a few thoughts on the idea of joy. 

First of all, joy is hopeful. Joy reminds us that there are good things in this world. Joy reminds us there are things worth celebrating in this world. Joy reminds us that hope can be found, always. 

We see this hope-filled joy in our scripture reading for this morning. Our scripture, from Luke 1, is commonly called The Magnificat, or the Song of Mary. It is Mary’s hope-filled and joyous song that she sings when she tells her cousin, Elizabeth, of her pregnancy. It is a song filled with joy, recognizing a God who fulfills promises. God has promised a Savior, a Messiah, for the people. God has delivered on that promise. God uplifts those in need, and brings down those who are wealthy. God is the great equalizer. Mary is joyful, because she is literally carrying the hope of the world in her body. God has chosen her to bear the Savior into the world. She is hope-filled. She is joy-full. 

She has felt God’s promise for the future, and she can’t help but sing and be grateful. She knows the future is in God’s hands, and therefore it is secure. The people are saved. God’s promise is coming true. 

And what’s incredible about this joy is that it comes in the midst of so much uncertainty. It comes in the midst of something that is probably very terrifying for Mary. She is young. She is not yet married. She is betrothed to Joseph, but they are not yet at the stage of the marriage contract where children are acceptable. She should not be pregnant. And we even see in the Gospel of Matthew that Joseph plans to quietly divorce her, since she is pregnant. She could be seen as an adulterer. She could be cast out. Going to Elizabeth was an act of great strength and hope, because what if Elizabeth didn’t believe her? Mary has a lot to be worried about. There are a lot of things that could keep her hopeless.

But she finds time for joy. 

Because this is the promise of God being fulfilled. She can feel it. She can see it. And even in all of the stuff surrounding this pregnancy that should cause her to feel hopeless or scared or uncertain, she is, instead, joyous. 

The joy in God’s promise is why we read the Magnificat today. Because this is a joyful scripture and we are a joyful people today. Even in a moment that should be terrifying for Mary, and probably is terrifying for Mary, a moment filled with so much doubt and uncertainty, she finds space for joy! 

Today, we celebrated a baptism. We have initiated a new little one, albeit a little one who has been with us for a while, into the family of God. This is joyful! This gives us hope! We know that she will grow up with a solid foundation of faith. That she will know God. That we carry the responsibility to share the good news and love of Christ with her, so she will, one day, know the reality of God’s love in her life! Is that not hopeful? To see the future of our faith so clearly in her? 

But she doesn’t carry that hope alone, because today we have also celebrated two confirmations! And I want to talk a little to our confirmands for a moment. Because, in you, we also have hope. This church has seen you grow up, from baptism to now. Many people in this room probably remember when those baptismal vows were made on your behalf, and now they get to see you make those vows for yourself. They get to see you declare your faith in Christ. That’s hopeful! The fact that you have chosen to be confirmed today means that you have felt the love of God as real in your life, and that is hopeful! It means that you have made a commitment to live with faith. That is hopeful! It means you trust in the love and grace of Christ, and that is hopeful! 

I want to say something to you all that my parents always told my brother and I growing up. Because my brother and I grew up in a United Methodist church. This is the denomination my parents were a part of, and so of course that is the church my brother and I grew up in. When we were confirmed, we became members of our United Methodist Church. And my parents said to us, “You know, you’re members of the church now. But you don’t have to stay members of a United Methodist Church for your entire life, if you don’t want to. We don’t care what kind of church you go to. We just care that you go to church and live with faith!” And while I think the United Methodist Church is an amazing denomination to practice your faith in, just know that being United Methodist is not the identity you proclaimed today. Being Chrisitan is. Being a Christ follower is. That is what gives us hope. The fact that you are saying yes to Christ today! That is what brings us joy. 

We are joyful because today we have seen the promise of God’s future. In baptism and in confirmation, we have felt the hope that this faith will continue into a new generation. That gives us great joy! 
Something I love about joy Sunday, and the fact we talk about joy in the middle of Advent, is that it reminds us that even when the world feels like it’s at its most hopeless, we can still take a moment to celebrate joy. Joy is claiming hope and laughing in the face of hopelessness. Joy is our reminder that hopelessness does not consume us. Joy and hope, they are so intimately tied to one another.

We have joy. We know hope. We have hope. We can find joy.

Looking for Hope in a Hopeless World: Hope on the Margins

Mark 1:1-8

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ. 

As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, 

“See I am sending my messenger ahead of you, 

Who will prepare your way, 

The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 

‘Prepare the way of the Lord; 

Make his paths straight.’” 

so, John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And the whole Judean region and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him and were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “the one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the strap of his sandals. I have baptized you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” 

***

When I was a sophomore in college, I studied abroad for a semester in Galway, Ireland. I have many memories of my time over there, but one memory I have is of going to an ice cream shop with some friends. As we waited in line, we started debating what flavor we wanted. Now, I am notoriously bad at making up my mind. Chocolate sounded nice, but so did coffee flavored. Vanilla would be good, but so would pistachio. Did I want to try a flavor I had never had before? Did I want to stick with something that I knew would be good? Something new? An old classic? I wasn’t sure what I wanted. 

As my friends and I were nearing the front of the line, a small voice interrupted the debate about what flavor to get. “The mint flavor is quite nice!” We turned around and there was a little boy, probably about seven or eight years old. “It’is my favorite here,” he continued. Of course, I took his advice. I trusted that he knew what he was talking about. Peppermint it was. And while I can’t fully remember exactly what that specific peppermint ice cream cone tasted like, I’m sure it was good. That small voice behind me in line didn’t steer me wrong. 

Why tell this story on the second Sunday of Advent, when we’re talking about hope coming from the margins? Well, because I see that story as a story of help coming in an unexpected way. A small bit of help, sure, but help nonetheless. See, in that ice cream shop, if I had trouble deciding a flavor, I would have expected my friends to help me decide. Or even the workers at the ice cream shop, who would know the most popular flavor. But a kid behind me in line offering up his opinion on the best flavor? That’s a little bit of an unexpected place for help to come from. 

That’s what we find at the beginning of Mark: Help coming in an unexpected way. Hope coming in an unexpected way. 

 Mark gets straight down to business here in its first chapter. This is the beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ. This is what we’re in for, folks, plain and simple. This is the Good News. This is where we find hope. 

But Mark also recognizes that there needs to be some proof, some justification, some reason, for Jesus being the one in whom we have hope. He can’t just say “This is the Good News of Jesus Christ” and expect everyone to know why reading about this Jesus guy is so good! So, Mark begins to connect Jesus to the promises of the prophets, quoting Malachi and Isaiah, he presents John the Baptist as the voice crying out from the wilderness, preparing the way of the Lord. John is the one making paths straight, getting people in the right place to meet Christ. 

John, this unexpected voice calling out from an unexpected place, points us to hope in Christ. 

John the Baptist is honestly one of my favorite parts of the Advent season, because he is so fun to talk about. Here’s this prophet, proclaiming the coming of the Lord, and he is wild. He is clothed with camel hair, a leather belt, he eats locusts and wild honey. In the Gospel of Matthew he calls people a “brood of vipers!” John the Baptist is a fascinating character. Like the prophets of old. Marginal. Wild. A little bit sensational. One commentary I read said he’d be a media star. 

Imagine what those who heard John the Baptist would have thought, seeing him proclaim this good news. Do you think they would have believed it at first? This wild man, crying out from the wilderness? Is he not a strange figure preaching hope? Perhaps they would have wondered if they should listen to him. Perhaps some wrote him off as overly sensational. Perhaps people put so much hope in him. But what we know, because he is a part of the story, is that  people flock to him. They want the baptism he’s offering. And they even believe that he may be the promised one, the Messiah.

The people have this hope that the Messiah is coming. Maybe,  just maybe, this wild man calling out from the wilderness is the Promised One. Maybe, just maybe, he’s the one to save the people. 

John, of course, refutes this. “There is one coming after me, I’m not even worthy to tie his sandals,” he declares. “I baptize with water, He will baptize with the Holy Spirit!” John is saying he’s not the Messiah, but the Messiah is going to be here soon, and he’s preparing people for this new reality. 

And while, with hindsight, we may wonder at the fact the people assumed it was John who was the Messiah, should we truly be surprised by their assumption? John was offering them hope! 

I imagine that some of the folks listening to John would have been disappointed. He’s not the one to fulfill their hopes! He’s the one to prepare them. He’s not the one who will deliver them! He’s simply making way for the one who will. But, John doesn’t care. His mission remains: Cry out in the wilderness. Proclaim the good news that God is near. Prepare the world for the one who is coming. 

Cry out. Proclaim. Prepare. 

Give hope. 

Because that’s what John is doing. For a people long under the thumb of Roman occupation, waiting for the deliverance promised to them, waiting for God to restore Israel to its glory, what John was proclaiming and preaching was hopeful. Hope was being heard, in the wilderness, on the margins.

The Messiah is coming! The one who will deliver you is coming! Prepare ye the way of the Lord! 

Is that not exciting? When you feel that small glimmer of hope? When in the midst of this chaotic world hope is seen? Heard? Felt? Known? 

Again, I imagine that John the Baptist would have been a very unexpected person for people to hear hope from. His appearance, his domain, his demeanor, everything about John the Baptist is slightly different, wild, and unexpected. And yet, he’s still offering hope. He’s still promising that hope is coming, and people are listening to him.

John the Baptist is a reminder for us that hope can come in unexpected ways and from unexpected places. So often, we have preconceived notions of what should happen. We have preconceived ideas of how things will be. You know, the people of Israel had assumptions that the Messiah would be a conquering hero, someone to fight Rome and deliver them. A wild man, wearing camel hair and eating locusts and honey saying “The Messiah is coming! The Messiah is coming!” would have challenged those preconceived notions. Shouldn’t the conquering hero be announced, not from the wilderness, but from the city square? Should the Messiah be made known not outside of the city, but in the Temple? Why have this announcement on the margins, rather than from the center of life? 

But, we have to remember, hope often comes from those marginal, unexpected places. Hope doesn’t often come in the ways we expect. And we have to be open to looking for hope in unexpected places, or we just might miss it. I’m sure there were a number of people who ignored John the Baptist, that odd man crying out from the wilderness. But think about all they missed by ignoring him. They missed out on the beauty of baptism! They missed out on hearing about Jesus’ imminent coming! They missed out on preparing their hearts for Christ! They missed out on hope. 

We have to look for hope in unexpected places, or else we just might miss it. We may miss where hope is popping up its head. 

Another thing about John the Baptist is that he is not the fulfillment of hope. He’s not the one the people are hoping for. He’s a sign of hope. He points the people toward hope. He’s not the fullness of hope. He’s a small glimmer. 

Yet he’s an important small glimmer. This is the small glimmer of hope that tells the people “Don’t give up waiting! Don’t give up on God! This promise is still good, and it’s so close to being fulfilled! God is near!” 

This reminds me of another story. When I was in high school my church partnered with the Eastern Michigan Food Bank for food giveaways. One of the food giveaways I volunteered at, I was in charge of handing out sweet treats. This lady came through the line and she asked if we had anything that would feed a family. For whatever reason there was a sheet cake in the box. Now, this cake had been so hard to give away. Many of the people before this woman were single and couldn’t take an entire sheet cake for themselves. I mentioned the sheet cake, and her face lit up. “Cake!” She exclaimed. “You have cake! Can I have it?” It was her granddaughter’s birthday and they didn’t have enough to get even a boxed cake mix. The family wasn’t sure where the cake would come from, or if they would even have it. “Isn’t God so good?” The woman said as she took the cake. I just nodded in agreement, but I’m not sure I fully got what she was talking about, at that moment. 

Finding God’s goodness in a cake felt odd to me. But, then again, I grew up in a middle class family. My parents never had to wonder if they’d be able to afford a cake for my birthday. I never even questioned if cake would be something I’d have. It was just a given. Birthdays equal cake. 

But looking back on that moment, I get how that cake was a God thing for that woman. She was so worried that her granddaughter wouldn’t feel normal on her birthday or celebrated, because the family couldn’t afford cake. So to have a cake in the Food Giveaway on the day she was there, and to have no one else who went before her want it, so she would be the one to get it. That’s a small glimmer of hope! That’s a small miracle! 

That’s God showing up in unexpected ways. That’s hope, pointing us toward the reality of God’s love! 

Hope, showing up in an unexpected way. 

That’s one of the many things that the story of John the Baptist teaches us. Look for hope in the unexpected places. 

Because hope shows up in those unexpected places. And it offers us a glimmer of something more than what we see around us. 

When we live in a world that is often full of so much hopelessness and despair, we need the reminder to look for hope everywhere and anywhere. We need the reminder that sometimes we can’t look at the big things for hope. We can’t always look at governments for hope. We can’t always look at the news and media for hope. Sometimes, we can’t even look at our religious systems for hope, in those times when the humanity in them loses sight of the divine. We want hope, but when we look for hope in those big things, it might be really, really, really hard to find. When we look for hope in the places we’d expect hope to be, it might be really, really, really hard to find.

But then, we may hear a voice calling from the distance “Look here! Look here! Prepare! Prepare!” We may see a man eating locusts and wild honey, with long hair and a tunic made of camel hair calling us toward a river for a baptism. We may hear him say “I am not the one you seek, but I am here to prepare the way! I am pointing you to the promise!” We may hear a little voice behind us say “The mint ice cream is my favorite!” We may give out a cake at a food drive, and make a grandmother’s day. We might get a cake at a food drive, and know that our granddaughter’s birthday will have something special this year. We may find hope in the smallest of places. We may find hope in the most unexpected of places. 

Let’s keep looking for hope. In the midst of all the hopelessness that the world offers, let’s keep looking for hope in those small, marginal, unexpected places. 

Looking for Hope in a Hopeless World: When it All Feels Hopeless.

Advent Series 2023

Mark 13:24-37

But in those days, after that suffering, 

the sun will be darkened,

and the moon will not give its light, 

and the stars will be falling from heaven,

and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. 

Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels and gather the elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven. 

From the fig tree learn this lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near,a t the very gates. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. 

But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert, for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake, for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening or at midnight or at cockcrow or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly.  And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake. 

***

There’s this song that I love by the band Tenth Avenue North. It’s titled “Worn.” The The chorus says “Let me see redemption win / Let me know the struggle ends / That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn / I want to know a song can rise / from the ashes of a broken life / and all that’s dead inside can be reborn / ‘cause I’m worn.” 

About ten or so years ago now, I went to see Tenth Avenue North in concert in Port Huron. This song had just come out the prior year, and they performed it. But they had an introduction to it first. They shared the story of how a family member of someone in the band had been diagnosed with cancer, and how turning to God in that moment felt hard. The band then thought of all the times life felt overwhelming and wearing, and wrote a song about crying out to God in the midst of that overwhelm. The chorus stays the same throughout the entirety of the song. We never get out of the yearning to see something better. This was not, the lead singer said, what the record label wanted. The record label wanted a turn at the end of the song, for the final chorus to be triumphant “Now I know redemption wins / Now I know the struggle ends…” The band fought against the lyric change. It didn’t reflect what the song is about, turning to God in the midst of a struggle. Trying to cling onto hope in the midst of that which would try to snatch hope away. 

What I love about the song, as written, is that it reminds us there are moments in our lives when everything seems to be too much, and all we can do is turn to God and say “I need you to show me that this is going to pass. Let me know this is not the end. Let me know that there is something better beyond this moment.” The song reminds us that feeling as though the world is hopeless is a part of being human. That struggle and suffering come hand in hand with this world, because this world is not yet what God intends. This world is not yet perfected. This world is not yet made right. 

We start the season of Advent with the same sentiment. 

Each year, in the lectionary, the first reading for the season of Advent refers to the end of times. “After that suffering the sun will be darkened, the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers of heaven will be shaken!” our scripture reading begins. These images are a bit scary, are they not? Imagine a total eclipse that lasts for far too long. Imagine the powers of Heaven being shaken. Imagine watching stars fall from the sky. The imagery is unsettling, certainly. 

But believe it or not, these words from Jesus are a call to hope. They’re a bit of a shocking call to hope, but a call to hope nonetheless. 

It would probably help, however, to ground this scripture in its context. At the very beginning of Mark 13, Jesus and his disciples exit the temple, and the disciples are pointing out the materials the temple is built with. Jesus says “Don’t be impressed with this, one day it will all be torn down.” And then he launches into a description of suffering and trial. Nation rising against nation. Kingdom against kingdom. Earthquakes and natural disasters will occur. The people will be persecuted. Brother will betray brother and father will betray child. The people will be arrested and put on trial. They may even have to flee. They’ll face false prophets and false Messiahs. In other words, Jesus says, The world will be a mess. 

Or maybe, even, the world is a mess. Those Jesus was talking to would have seen this in the way Rome stomped out resistance and oppressed the people in Judea. The readers even would see the world as a mess. Remembering that Mark is written in the aftermath of a Jewish revolt in 66 CE and Rome’s destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, these words of Jesus would have sounded familiar to Mark’s audience. Fleeing for life. Living in a time of distrust and suspicion. Seeing destruction and violence everywhere. This is what the people were living through already. They were living in the midst of a hopeless world. This scripture reminds them to endure with hope. 

And, perhaps, some of what Jesus is saying here sounds familiar to us as well. Don’t we see reflections of what Jesus is talking about in our own world? We often hear stories of violence and war, of broken relationships, of natural disasters. We, too, are familiar with a world that seems to be ripping apart at the seams. We, too, are living through suffering, turmoil, and hardship. We too feel the reality of hopelessness and fear. We, too, wonder if all that we’re seeing means the world is coming to an end. 

And yet, Jesus ends his time of teaching the disciples with hope. He reminds the disciples that even in the midst of hopelessness, he is near. The Son of Man is near. He reminds the disciples that one day Heaven and Earth will pass away, but his word endures forever. He encourages the disciples to keep alert and be aware for the day the Son of Man will return. Keep alert, be aware. God will come and make everything right. 

What Jesus is basically saying here is “Don’t lose hope.” Or maybe even, “Don’t stop looking for hope.” There is always hope to be found when God is near. 

This hope is a bit shocking, though. Because it’s not a hope that says “Don’t worry, when God is near everything will be alright.” It’s a hope that says, “Even in suffering and trials, tribulations and pain, even when you feel overwhelmed or the earth is shifting beneath your feet, God is still near.” Jesus is saying that God’s nearness doesn’t cancel out our pain and our suffering. But God’s nearness reminds us the trial, the pain, and the suffering don’t last forever. That the bad things that threaten to consume us don’t last forever. That the evil powers of the world do not last forever. But God lasts forever. And God’s word endures. God’s word will not pass away. 

Jesus’ call to hope in this passage is a call for us to keep awake to the truth that God endures. That God will not pass away. It is for us to keep alert, and constantly look for the signs of hope that exist all around us. To look at the pain and the suffering of the world and remember that, yes, somewhere in the midst of all of this, God is there too. If we keep our eyes open, if we keep alert, if we keep awake, we may see signs of this truth. 

One of my favorite books I ever read in seminary I read for a pastoral care class. It’s called Lament for a Son, by Nicholas Wolterstorff. This work was published 12 years after Wolterstorff’s 25 year old son died in a mountain climbing accident. It is a series of journal entries and meditations on his grief. There is a line that he writes that I constantly come back to when walking through moments in life that are overwhelming. Wolterstorff meditates on the fact that God brought him to a place of grief. When things were good, finding God was easy. Praising God was simple. But then, “Noon has darkened,” he writes. “And where are you in this darkness? I learned to spy you in the light. Here in this darkness I cannot find you…Will I find you in the dark?” He later writes that his faith and his lament are in tension with one another, yet fastened to one another. Each time he asks “Lord have you forgotten me?” a reply of “put your hope in God” pops into his brain. 

Faith and lament. Faith and lament. Hope and hopelessness. Hope and hopelessness. 

This is the attitude that the season of Advent invites us into. This is the attitude that Jesus invites us into in this passage. The call to hope against hopelessness. The call to always look for God amidst the trials and tribulations of the world. The world is upending, it is shaking. The world threatens to overwhelm. For whatever reason, one of the greatest mysteries of our faith, suffering happens. Bad things happen. There are moments in our lives where the world feels uprooted and upended. Where it feels like the stars are falling, the sun is darkened, the light is going away. And yet, we are still called to find hope. Even in the midst of all that threatens to overwhelm, we are called to keep alert and stay awake and look for the signs of hope our world offers. 

There is something so symbolic about Advent happening at this time of the year, as the days are shorter and shorter and the nights are longer and longer. Right in the middle of Advent, just days before Christmas, we have the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, when our pole is the furthest away from the sun. And yet, in Advent, we mark each week by lighting a candle. Little by little, week by week, we make our way through the darkness. Little by little, week by week, more light is brought into the world. A little more hope is born. 

Advent is a call to hope. It is a season where we may sing out “Lord, let me see redemption win. Let me know the struggle ends,” like Tenth Avenue North does in their song. It’s a season where we may ask “God, where can we find you in the midst of all that our world is?” It’s a season where we remember the promise of God, the love of God,  in Christ Jesus, is real and tangible and endures forever. It is a season that calls us to hope, even when we are overwhelmed. To hope, even when the world tries to strip hope away. To hope, even when it all feels hopeless. 

Hope, even when hope is shocking. Hope, even when hope is audacious. Hope, because Christ has come and Christ will come again. Keep awake and keep alert. There are signs of hope. Let’s look for them.