In week one, we met George Bailey standing on that bridge. We saw something resembling hope on the horizon. For George it was demonstrated in his willingness to converse with an angel, who seemingly knew everything there was to know about his life. Had he been completely hopeless; he could have ignored the voice and sealed his fate by leaning just a little bit further over the railing of the bridge. He could have jumped, bringing an end to the meaninglessness of his life. In the book, because the movie takes some liberties with this scene, George returns to town annoyed at the angel.
Everyone is waiting for something. The ‘where’ of our waiting is the best place to begin the advent season. The place or posture of our waiting, our current emotional address, usually speaks to our expectations…our hopes. Some wait and hope believing it to lack meaning. To them hope is a lying expectation. Others wait and hope with caution. Theirs is an expectation that says, “I believe good things are on the horizon, but I am prepared to be disappointed.” They hope with a disclaimer. But there is a third type of hope, one that is fully convinced and confidently believes. They are adventing with great expectation. It’s a hope that is continually giving way to deeper faith and higher praise. Dr. John Piper defines it this way, “Biblical hope is biblical faith in the future tense.”
Whatever your posture. That of a lying hope, hope with a disclaimer, or hope with great expectations…there is room for all the feelings during this season of advent. God is not threatened by our lack of faith, be it denial or caution. God has never been threatened. He doesn’t move away from the George Baileys standing on the bridge, he runs to them. Neither does he cozy up to our caution, those expecting disappointment but rather he overwhelms it with his arrival. The closer Jesus gets the more disappointment fades.
Hope, the kind that hopes in the promises of God, always gives way to faith. A slight shift in our posture can give way to a tidal wave of purpose. He may have been born in a manger, but he will not force himself into your house. He may pursue us relentlessly, but he will not kick down the door to our hearts. As Max Lucado writes in A Gentle Thunder,
“God will whisper. He will shout. He will touch and tug. He will take away our burdens; he’ll even take away our blessings. If there are a thousand steps between us and him, he will take all but one. But he will leave the final one for us. The choice is ours.”
The choice to let expectation give way to experience, to let wondering give way to believing, is God’s design and desire for Advent:
“When the time came to completion, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.” Galatians 4:4-5
Redemption, and future restoration, is the reason for the waiting. It’s what gives meaning to our waiting. Oswald Chambers explained it this way, “Hope without faith loses itself in vague speculation, but the hope of the saints transfigured by faith grows not faint but endures “as seeing Him Who is invisible.””
So, Advent is a season of hope that never leads to darkness swirling like liquid glass. The future is not an abyss bidding us to give in and give up. Advent is a season that about how we were called “out of darkness into his marvelous light.” The future is grace showing up to carry us home. Hope comes to our address; faith opens the door. And when we allow hope to give way to belief, then we position our lives to be filled with joy. But that’s a candle for another week.