What hope really looks like

Sometimes waiting is the only hope you can muster.  Advent always makes me think of what could be and what is,  more than any other season.  Advent shows me more than any other time of the year just how cold, how lost, how barren, how broken, how hopeless our world can seem.  I sometimes think that spiritually we are living in times parallel to those written about by the prophet Malachi.  Malachi was the last the last prophet to speak before we ever hear John the Baptist preaching in the wilderness. Malachi ends by telling God's people to remember and believe.  Malachi put down his pen and for the next 400 years God is silent.  Not one word from God.  No miracles.  No prophets.  Nothing but darkness.  God did not utter as much as syllable.  Those were some of the darkest days in Israel's history.  Israel had never known such poverty, such powerlessness, such persecution.  God quite simply ceased to speak.  Malachi told them that despite the apparent hopelessness of the situation, despite the feeling of absolute powerlessness, despite the feeling of abandonment,  they were never to forget God.  They were to remember what God had done for them and to believe that God would not abandon and God would rescue them.

She said as much to me today and I didn't have a good answer.  She said, "I don't know, I just think God doesn't hear me anymore.  I just don't believe God listens or cares."  I knew where she had been the last three months and I had I pretty good idea of what lay ahead of her.  I knew where she had come from and she nor I knew where she might be going.  But both of us could imagine.  It appeared pretty hopeless.  It appeared pretty dark.  I don't have a good answer for suffering.  Except that it exists.  I have heard all the theological answers and to be honest they just don't hold much comfort for me.  I suspect not for her either.   And for whatever reason, Advent makes the darkness seem all the more real to me. 

Many would tell me that is the point.  And to some extent I agree, but I am fairly confident I would not have made a good Elizabeth, a good Mary and I am fairly confident that I would have ignored the prophet Malachi and chosen not to remember.  Not to hope.

The harsh realities of the world that run parallel to twinkling lights, Christmas tree lots, packages tied up with bows, children laughing, the smell of cookies, the dancing reindeer and a jolly old elf dancing in a red suit can leave me in despair at times. Part of that is an occupational hazard, part of that is due to my introverted nature, part of that is due to my over exercised sensitivities and part is reality based.  Poverty has always existed alongside wealth.  Health and sickness have always walked side by side.  Sorrow precedes joy.  I just have never been able to ignore the truths that live alongside side wreaths and decked out halls. 

It can be important to remember that the theological definition for hope is the willingness to live without closure, without resolution, and still be content and maybe even happy because we know that our source for life is beyond ourselves.  The expectancy of Advent comes from knowing that Christ has come into our past.  Christ has come into our own private dramas and struggles.  Christ is present in the midst of our lives now.  And Christ will come in our futures.  Advent hope is not some perfect, selfish fantasy.  Advent hope is seen in a baby born in a manager who grew up to suffer and die.  Advent hope is not a pretty package.  Advent hope reminds us that before angels sang songs of joy there was much sorrow.  Before peace on earth there will be much conflict.  Before you heal, you will hurt.  Before the Light of the world there was great darkness.  And before the Word became flesh and dwelt among us...remember God was silent. 

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