Advent Devotional: Hope

 Hello FCC family!

I hope you all enjoyed our Hanging of the Greens service this past Sunday and the potluck thereafter. If you weren’t there, please know that you were missed and that we look forward to seeing you soon.

Our Hanging of the Greens service introduced us to the season of Advent. Advent is a time when we remember the nativity of Christ our Savior at his first coming, and look forward to his return at the Second Coming. Traditionally, there are four themes to the four weeks of Advent: Hope, peace, love, and joy. As we plan our vacations and family get-togethers, hurry to complete our Christmas shopping, and fight holiday traffic, I would love if we could take some time each week to ponder the meaning of Advent and the significance of these four themes, beginning with hope.

One of my favorite Christmastime movies is Chris Columbus’ 1990 classic, Home Alone. Who among us hasn’t forgotten something, perhaps something very important, in a mad dash out of the house? What child hasn’t imagined how he might resourcefully defend his home during a burglary, a war, or a zombie apocalypse? What parent wouldn’t sacrifice anything and everything to get home to their child for Christmas? And what grinch’s heart fails to grow three sizes when, at the end of the movie, Old Man Marley reconciles with his estranged son and granddaughter?

In one scene during the movie, Kate McCallister argues with an airport employee as she tries to secure a flight to Chicago, where her son Kevin is home alone. In the background, an extra in a sports jacket patiently waits his turn in line as Gus, played by John Candy, listens on empathetically. This extra would hardly be worth noting, if he did not bear a slight resemblance to the late Elvis Presley. Following the death of Elvis thirteen years prior, several people reported seeing Elvis alive. Numerous conspiracy theories arose that the King of Rock & Roll had not really died. And now, here in the background of a now beloved Christmas movie alongside Gus, coincidentally (or maybe not?) nicknamed the King of Polka, was a man who bore a suspicious resemblance to the celebrity.

Of course, all this comes to naught, as the extra in question was one Gary Richard Grott. But while Elvis Presley’s body is interred next to that of his mother Gladys at Memphis’ Forest Hill Cemetery, and while many of the lookalikes have been identified as just that, theories continue to abound. Many hold on to the hope, however slim, that Elvis is still alive.

Merriam-Webster’s dictionary defines “hope” as, “to cherish a desire with anticipation; to want something to happen or be true.” Intrinsic to “hope” is desire; but confidence may or may not be present. A person may hope that Elvis is alive, even if they believe confidently that he is not.

The Greek word translated in the New Testament as “hope,” however, is somewhat different. Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance defines the Greek word elpis as “a confident expectation.” While the English “hope” conveys a desire that may go against every expectation, the New Testament’s elpis conveys a strong expectation that the thing hoped for will occur. With this in mind, let us turn to the eighth chapter of Paul’s letter to the Romans, where the apostle writes,

“The creation waits in eager expectation for the revelation of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not by its own will, but because of the One who subjected it, in hope (elpis)  that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until the present time” (Romans 8:19-22). 

The whole of God’s good creation–you, me, our friends and family, our pets, our environment, our nations, and everything else we know and love on this earth–was subjected to “futility”--that is, “hopelessness”--when our first ancestors, Adam and Eve, chose to disobey God and wilfully sin. This hopelessness only increases when we, their heirs with the proclivity to follow in their footsteps, do the same. This is the root cause of all the pain that we witness and experience, and as a result, all of creation cries out with groaning, as a woman in the midst of giving birth. But, unlike a woman in labor, the creation seems to have nothing to look forward to. Instead, it is subject to bondage and decay. Everything is futile–all hope is lost.

That is, all hope was lost. But something happened two thousand years ago that changed all that: the First Advent. The incarnation, ministry, atoning death, resurrection, and ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ, our true and only hope, restored what had been lost. Jesus came to earth to love, to identify with, and to ransom the children of God. Paul continues,

“Not only that, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope (elpis) we were saved; but hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he can already see? But if we hope for what we do not yet see, we wait for it patiently” (8:23-25).

Because of his work from the moment he was conceived in the womb of Mary until today, we now have the elpis—the confident expectation—that all this groaning will one day cease when the Lord of Glory returns to finish what he started, redeeming all things to himself and identifying those who trust in him as the true children of God.

In the meantime, however, we wait in this season between the First and Second Advents. But, this season of waiting is no longer futile, no longer hopeless. Instead, we can look forward with a confident expectation to our adoption as God’s children, the redemption of our bodies, and our final salvation, that will cause all of the current birth pangs and seeming futility of our present world to be forgotten, or even better, to be worked for our good (8:28). Paul reminds us, “our present sufferings are not worth comparing to the glory that will be revealed in us” (8:18). 

So, while the world around us continues to groan, we can wait patiently, as Gary Richard Grott waited patiently for his turn in line behind a distressed mother. Certainly, anyone in Gary’s situation would be expected to be agitated or impatient; however, Gary waited patiently, with a confident expectation that when Kate McCallister’s groaning was over, his turn in line would come. A woman in labor, though she suffers in the present, joyfully endures her trials, because she has a confident expectation that when the trials are over, she will be united with the one that she has loved and longed to see for so long. And because of the incarnation, we can have that same expectation.

Advent is a season of hope. While we were once home alone, helpless on this earth, suffering in futility, Advent is the story of a God who sacrificed everything to be with his children for Christmas. Because of this story, we have hope. Because while Elvis, the King of Rock & Roll, is dead, our elpis, the King of Kings, lives.

I hope (though not necessarily with a confident expectation!) that you find this short devotional edifying, and that you feel free to share it with others. I look forward to seeing you all on Sunday and connecting with you next week about the theme of peace. In case you have forgotten or you haven’t heard, we will be having two services on Christmas Eve: One at 10AM, and a candlelight service at 6PM. Please invite your friends, family, neighbors, and everyone you can!

Blessings,

Pastor Larry