So Advent started last Sunday. I had intended to get this out before then, but then things happened, and I didn’t get it out there. My apologies.
About Advent
Advent is the season leading up to Christmas, starting the fourth Sunday before. Christmas, the twelve days of it, begins on Christmas Day. Right now, we are in the middle of Advent.
For many Christians, they celebrate every Sunday of Advent with a little devotional thing and lighting of candles. We do it in my family.
Just like last year, I have written little essays and will be sharing them here. I’m adding a recording of me reading them, in case you’re too lazy to read.
The plan is to get these out before Sunday, so you could, if you wanted, to use these readings as a seed for your own Advent celebrations. This week I’m late, but I’ll have out the next one, peace, out on Saturday.
WEEK ONE: HOPE
Hope sits at the center of any life who tries to follow Jesus Christ. It nestles alongside faith and charity. And like faith and charity, hope is something we must deliberately choose. When we see the messiness of the world around us, it’s easy to give in to despair. Sometimes, maybe, most of us do.
The birth of Jesus Christ gives us reason to hope when all the signs around us fail to. We acknowledge the reality of the awfulness of things, but then counter-logically, we choose to live with a feeling of hopefulness.
Real hope is firmly grounded in reality. It sees clearly. Hope is not a bury-your-head-in-the-sand virtue. Through hope, we can encounter reality head-on, with clear eyes. We can use all our intellectual gifts to understand the world as it actually is. And, with the gift of hope (and it is indeed a gift), we can see the troubles of the world and yet still hope for something better. Hope powers action.
Anxiety takes a place at the opposite of hope. Anxiety is intellectualized fear about the future. I worry about what might come. Maybe most of us do. With hope, we can acknowledge that worry, that potential for failure or ruin, but we also acknowledge that things might work out after all. Sure, the potential for awfulness exists, but the potential for wonderful success exists, too. Hope sees the many options, but chooses the happy path. I have to choose it, I have to put in some effort. Maybe most of us do.
For me, Christmas feels intentionally designed to foster hopefulness. At Christmastime, despite whatever is happening in the world or in my life today, I look backwards through traditions and memories, and all the while I anticipate a lovely Christmas Day. I live in a short-term hope. Maybe most of us do. It’s the hope that looks forward to a joyful day just a few weeks from now.
But Christmastime also helps me cultivate a larger vision of hope. It reminds me to live in long-term hope. Maybe most of us do that, too. It’s the hope that we will measure up to what God intends for us. It’s the hope that His work can be fulfilled in each of us. He did His part in sending down his Son to exemplify Godly behavior, in sending down his Son to expiate for us—almost like a cheat-code so that our mistakes won’t damn us—though it was enormously painful for everyone involved. After all His hard work, physically and emotionally, I hope that I’m worth it. I hope; I live in hope.
Think to yourself now: what do you hope for in these weeks leading up to Christmas?
A couple of scriptures:
* Isaiah 40:9-11, 30-31
* Ether 12:4
I hope to have a Least Bad Poem to share next time, along with a Christmas song.
Until then, may your days be merry and bright.
All is well,
Jeff
