Adapted from a talk given on November 17, 2022 to the women of Christ Church Vienna.

Let’s start with the proper Advent greeting: “Happy new year!”

Wait what, you’re saying! I haven’t even bought a turkey – not to mention Christmas gifts – and you’re talking about New Years! That’s over six weeks away.

I am sorry for adding stress to a notoriously busy time, but I am referring to the Church calendar – not our regular calendar!

In his book, Advent for Everyone: A Journey through Matthew, N. T. Wright gives helps us think about the church calendar: “think of a bicycle wheel; it goes round and round, but it is moving forwards, not standing still. . . . So it is with the church’s year. We go round the circuit: Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Holy Week and Good Friday, Easter, Pentecost. The traditional Western churches sum all this up on Trinity Sunday, as we learn more deeply who our glorious God really is.

. . . [But] we are not simply going round and round the same topics and never getting anywhere. We are signing on as part of God’s larger project, God’s forward purposes, his plans for the whole creation to be renewed, so that (as the prophets said) the earth will be full of the knowledge and glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. . . That is the Advent hope.

Tonight I want to invite you into the warmth of the Advent hope and ask you to start this new year by “signing on” again to God’s larger project to renew creation. The project began on resurrection day – when Jesus conquered sin and death. It will be complete when he returns, and renews this sad and tired earth.

It’s an audacious hope. If there wasn’t enough to burden our hearts this year, last week’s shooting at UVA wounds our souls deeply. While we have become tragically inured to news of school shootings, this one stands out for the attack on not just individuals, a team of individuals, on teammates, on friends. Young men with beautiful smiles and promising lives ahead of them. The evil of our days – and now right down the road – is about as antithetical to hope as one could imagine.

But think about this. While we weep with Charlottesville, another city in the world is rejoicing: the Ukrainian regional capital of Kherson, recently liberated from Russian occupation. The news reports have been fascinating.

Once the news of Russia’s withdrawal reached them, the people of Kherson ran into the streets to celebrate. They ran out before the Ukrainian military arrived. Before the mines and other lethal armament were removed. Before ascertaining that the enemy had fully departed.

“The first gestures were tentative,” a newspaper reported. “A Ukrainian flag appearing mysteriously in a plinth outside a deserted government building; a handful of residents venturing into an empty square to wave Ukrainian flags; and a man climbing a ladder to tear strips off a billboard proclaiming, “Russia is here forever.”

And yet it happened. 

Put yourself in their place. Gaze out of a cracked window pane at a desolate street. See the destruction, the barricades. See burned-out cars and buildings turned into torture chambers. See your neighbors weeping.

What crazy hope Kherson’s citizens had — that one day, their home would be liberated. To hope against hope for safety, for peace, for freedom. To cry with hope that their sons would not be captured and killed. That kind of hope sees dawn at midnight.

While Charlottesville is a brutal picture of our war-torn world, Kherson provides hope that one day the captured city will be liberated.

This tale of two cities is the plot arc of the biblical narrative.

God’s plan to liberate the world from Satan’s evil grasp began as far back as Eden, when God promised that one day “the offspring of the woman” would crush the serpent’s head.

The whole story of the Bible is how that plan unfolded in time. Jesus was that long-awaited baby, “conceived of the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary.” Jesus was the new Moses who would bring God’s people out of slavery to sin and death.

After three years of wondrous and miraculous ministry, the time came for Jesus to face the enemy. The end of Satan’s occupation would not come with swords and guns. But in meekness. When Jesus entered Jerusalem riding on a humble donkey – the Davidic symbol of the conquering king — crowds went before him waving palm branches and shouting, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”

Jesus unmasked the real enemy and how he would defeat him: “Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (John 12:31-32). 

When will that blessed day come? When will the shootings and wars cease? When will the tears be wiped away? When will illness and deprivation end? When will we stop hating each other? When will Jesus return for his people?

Not even the angels know the day or time, but that day IS coming. Like the people of Kherson, Christians have heard the “good news” that Jesus overcame Satan by his death and resurrection. We have received the first fruits of the Holy Spirit and now wait with eager expectation for the Bridegroom to return for his bride!

Audacious hope is what Advent is all about. The early victory celebration. It is crazy people running into the streets, like on Palm Sunday, waving flags and tearing off the strips of billboards that say, “Satan is here forever.” Despite the horrific shooting at UVA – and everything else we experience that is tinged with death – liberation day is coming! In Romans 8, Paul exults with this hope: “that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” (Rom 8:21).

So how shall we then live in this moment, the already-and-not yet? Here are three thoughts for how to tear off Satan’s “billboard” this Advent:

  1. Be still. In Psalm 46, the psalmist urges us to “be still and know that he is God.” Even as the “the nations rage, and the kingdoms totter,” and even if the earth were to give way, we are not to fear. On what basis are we to have this audacious hope? The first is that no matter how bleak things seem, God is still on the throne: “he breaks the bow and shatters the spear. He will burn the chariots with fire. He will be exalted among the nations and in the earth. The second is this: Until that day comes, we are not alone. He will be our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. “The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.” He is Emmanuel God with us God.
  2. Bring light. When the apostle John wrote about Jesus’ incarnation, he doesn’t tell us about Mary and the manger. Rather, he said this: “The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world…The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:4-5).  When we let Jesus into our hearts like that humble donkey, and give way to his reoccupation, he brings life and light. The Holy Spirit fills our heart with peace and joy that transcends our circumstances. This hope is like a bonfire on a dark night. In Philippians 2, Paul calls us to “shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life.” You may not think you are a bright light, but you are. Let it shine.
  3. Do good. In Romans 12, at the end of a paragraph on evil, persecution and temptations to vengeful retaliation, Paul gives this command “Do not be overcome with evil but overcome evil with good.” By good deeds we show our defiance of the evil occupation. By becoming part of the active resistance, we stand side by side with the “army” of saints all around the world who are waiting for Christ’s appearance. In other words, don’t be passive about evil and darkness. Counteract it with good.

As we make these Advent commitments, we are once again “signing on” to God’s larger project to renew creation. You and I are the advance team. Let the celebration begin!

Photo by Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash