December 2, 2018, The First Sunday of Advent
Do you remember the story of Pandora’s Box in Greek mythology? As the story goes, the lovely Pandora was sent by Zeus, the chief god in the Greek pantheon, to Epimetheus, the Titan brother of the famous Prometheus. As beautiful as Pandora was she was equally curious, a quality that also proved to be almost her undoing, when the messenger Mercury sent a box to the young couple as a special gift. The box was intended for the couple to enjoy, but never to open. Under no circumstances were they to open it. Imagine a boxed gift that you were never to open.
Of course, curious Pandora opened the box, and when she did out flew a swarm of insects that began to attack her and her beloved. Both were stung with the poison of suspicion and hatred, fear and malice. Now, the once happy couple suddenly began to argue with one another, so much so that Epimetheus became bitter and Pandora broken. But in the midst of their quarreling, they heard a tiny sound coming from the box, and this time a beautiful butterfly flew out, touching the couple and relieving them of their pain. The butterfly we are told was the butterfly of hope.
It’s just a story, but it teaches us an important lesson. Of all the gifts that any of could receive, perhaps none is more precious than the gift of hope, because it is hope that will always sustain us. It is hope that will ultimately soothe our pain.
That’s also the message of another story with which you’re familiar, this one grounded in Holy Scripture. It’s the story of Job, that righteous and blameless man whose life came apart at the seams and landed him in a situation where his faith would be sorely tested and his hope in God’s favor would be called into question.
This section of Job’s story introduces us to Job’s three friends. Job’s fortunes have been reversed and these friends have shown up to help Job wrap his mind around the reversal and how he should respond to it. It also contains Job’s responses to their opinions, which consistently take the form of a personal defense.
In this chapter Job is responding to Elphaz, thought to be the eldest of the group of friends. Though traditional in his theology, he is nonetheless a tender friend. His heart goes out to Job, though he turns out to be one of those persons who tend to say the right thing at the wrong time. In this case, because God punishes sinners and rewards the righteous, surely Job must have done something wrong, something to which Job must confess. Otherwise, according to Eliphaz’s logic, there is no hope for Job, no hope whatsoever.
The mention of hope pushes a button in Job’s soul. “Hope?” Job thinks to himself. “Hope?” “Where then is my hope? Who can see any hope for me?” Job’s response shows us that if hope is a sustaining gift, we must somehow learn to embrace it and cling to it when everything and everyone around us wants to convince us we have nothing to live for.
Contrary to popular belief, hope is not the same as wishful thinking. Wishful thinking is grounded in what I want from other people. (“I hope I’ll get what I ask for on Christmas morning.” “I hope I get to be home for Christmas.”) Christian hope is grounded instead in what God wants for me. It grows, therefore, in the possibilities of God, not in the muck and mire of everyday circumstances, because God is not bound by everyday circumstances. It is anchored in the faithfulness of God, not in the faithfulness of us. And that is why the story of Job is so compelling…and so inspiring. In spite of his massive suffering, Job chooses to trust his future to God, believing to the core of his being that in His time God will make a way where a way does not seem possible.
The reason we light the candle of hope on this first Sunday of Advent is because of our conviction that in the birth of Jesus God indeed made a way where a way did not seem possible. In the birth of Jesus is that when everything seems to be one big dead end, God intrudes. God draws near. God makes His presence known in a way that assures us that in spite of all evidence to the contrary God is working in all things for good, even in our pain, even in our suffering. We are not alone. We are never on our own. The good news of Advent hope is that God is drawing near to be with us in the darkest place of our dark night and to illumine that place with Jesus, the light of life.
As we begin this signal season of preparation, regardless of how well or how poorly your life is going, are you willing to place your future in the hands of a God who is faithful to all of His promises? Are you willing to trust your tomorrows to a God who can bring well-being out of distress, delight out of sorrow, and purpose out of pain? Are you willing to lift up your head from the tribulation of today and believe with all your being that your redemption is drawing nigh?
Several years ago, at the Mississippi Abbey outside of Dubuque, Iowa, Sister Grace Remington did a crayon and pencil drawing of the Virgin Mary consoling the first woman Eve, which became a Christmas card and went “viral.” It really is a powerful image. There is Mary on the right, her pregnant womb swollen with the baby Jesus, gently cupping the face of dejected Eve, who is resting her hand on Mary’s swollen belly. No doubt Eve is dejected because of her wrong choices and seemingly hopeless future, but Mary’s pregnant presence and the fruit of her womb is God’s assurance that her shame and the consequences of her sin will not have the last word.
A child will be born and will be laid in a box, a corn-crib manger, out of which shall spring eternal hope. And his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace; and of the increase of his government and his peace, there will be no end (Isa. 9:6-7). Jesus will have the last word.
So, where then is our hope, and who can see any hope for us? God is and He sees all, and He knows what tomorrow holds because in Jesus He holds tomorrow and through our faith in the process He holds us as well.
