Hope Crashing into Chaos: Reimagining Advent for Our Present Moment

By Matthew Nash

Hope Crashing into Chaos: Reimagining Advent for Our Present Moment

By Matthew Nash

Everyone is asleep after such an intense journey.

Walking the last few miles in total darkness exhausted them. So, when the sun finally peeked out over the eastern mountains, it warmed the young mother and father.

They left their home and community in anticipation of a new chapter of life—not knowing who would oppress them on their path or which government official would require some payment from them for simply existing.

I am not just describing Joseph and Mary coming to Bethlehem to birth their baby Jesus, as you may have first thought. I am painting a picture of many people’s stories in places like Gaza and Israel—either now or throughout history. This is the story of many in Ukraine, Sudan, or China, as well as lots of other places today.

But you and I are not so far removed from their struggle and pain. Their pain is our pain, and their struggle is ours. The world is full of chaos, and we desperately need some new hope. The interesting thing about hope is that it often shows up in unexpected places, at unexpected times, ushered in by unexpected people.

In Tolkien’s classic, Lord of the Rings, at one point in the story when things are looking very bleak, Eomer of Rohan says, “Do not trust to hope; it has forsaken these lands.” This is what many of us believe today when we look at the world around us or engage in debate with people that think differently than we do.

Often what is forsaken becomes forgotten.

This happens in families with certain traditions that we used to once celebrate, but now no longer do. This happens in faith communities when we focus more on what divides us rather than what brings us together. This happens in our individual souls when the voices in our heads—or our anxieties and fears—become our own worst enemies. We are all tired and desperately need some new hope.

In the Hebrew wisdom tradition, there is a statement from the book of Proverbs that says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life” (Proverbs 13:12).

When we most need hope but are denied it, it can make us sick, either physically or in our spirit. The writer does not stop, though, with the first statement. They continue and remind us that a longing that comes “to be” is like a tree of life.

When the world was brand new, there was a tree of life that gave fruit for the people to be nourished and flourish. At the end of all things, the book of Revelation tells us that in a new city there will be the Tree of Life, and its leaves will be for the healing of the nations. That is absolutely consoling to hear, but we need some healing now.

I have good news, my friend. This hope I speak of is available to us today.

Advent is about this new hope that we need. The word advent means “arrival” and specifically refers to the arrival of the Christ child. That word “Christ” was not Jesus’ last name so he could have a proper business card. It is a title and in Greek it is Christos, and it means “Anointed One.”

When Jesus was born in an obscure village in a remote outpost of a global empire under the boot of an oppressive government, hope crashed into chaos.

Hours before the birth there were some shepherds taking care of the temple sheep and suddenly, the sky lit up and angelic messengers declared these words: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests” (Luke 2:14). The word “favor” is another word for grace. It is undeserved love and provision that goes down deep into a person’s bones and fills them with hope. This baby that is born, that is given the name Jesus and referred to as the “Anointed one” before even a breath of his new lungs was out, was born to give us hope.

Recently, I was in the United Kingdom and Ireland meeting with leaders from non-profit organizations and churches. I listened to them talk about how it seems like hope is going out of style and how easy it is to be cynical and reactionary. I was there to pour into them and care for their souls, and they were exhausted and burned out. They were eager for Christmas to come so they could be infused again with hope.

That is a beautiful goal, but if we are only waiting for one of the last holidays of the year to come so that we have one more dose of hope before it all goes wrong again, we are missing what Jesus came to give us.

Hope is something we need to cultivate daily. It must be something that gets us excited about finding the places where more hope is needed and shine the light in those dark and chaotic places.

In the last ten years, I have become more accustomed to doing spiritual practices to grow my faith and my journey with Jesus. I grew up in a religious system that emphasized just believing a list of statements intellectually about God, but then my daily life became about obligation and not a life full of hope.

One of the practices that I most do, especially during this season, is to keep a gratitude journal. It is a little notebook where each morning I write down five people that I am grateful for and find ways during the day to encourage them. I also write down five other things that I am thankful for, and they could be things I notice in creation or experiences I have had lately. This has kept hope alive in me.

When I talk with others in a given community, I ask them what they are grateful for. I have never met someone who is not grateful for someone or something. This Christmas, I want to encourage you to start a gratitude journal and find ways to serve others in your community, either at a local food pantry or shelter or invite someone over for a meal that you know is alone this year.

It can get bleak during this time of year, and you could be the hope that someone else desperately needs.

It is when we learn to embody hope through acts of faith that more and more hope cracks through the darkness, like a bright light on a wooded path.

During this Advent and Christmas season, I pray you find more and more of this hope that does not fail us and that you find it in more and more in your ordinary moments long after Advent is through.

Grace and Peace to you,

Matt

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