A Liturgy of Advent Hope

This Sunday sees the commencement of the Advent season in the Church, though if you observe the Celtic tradition, you would have begun on 15^th November, a 40-day journey much like the season of Lent.

The influential Cistercian Abbot St Bernard of Clairvaux (1090 – 1153), spoke of the ‘three comings of Christ’. The first of these is the incarnation, the coming of Christ as a baby, born to Mary in the town of Bethlehem. The ‘middle coming’ is a spiritual presence, the Christ who comes to us now in the context of our daily lives through the sacraments and experiential encounters. The third and final coming of Christ is expected to be at the end of this age as we know it, the future return of Jesus, and the reality of his hoperevealed, ongoing presence with us, dwelling with us in truth, as we awaken to a wondrous new existence.

The four themes for Advent are hope, peace, joy and love. It is during this first week that we traditionally consider hope, the first step on our journey.

How is your hope in these troublesome, sometimes indiscernible, days? For some it seems that hope is in short supply. Does your hope come quietly, out of sight, like a baby in a forgotten cave in the Middle East, born to a young woman yet unknown to the world? But a hope that grows with importance and centrality to your life?

Or does hope come invisible, hidden, like the Spirit of the Sovereign Lord? If the Incarnation is Word made flesh, then this intermediate coming is flesh made sacred, glorious and majestic, a shining light brought forth from hiddenness for all to see, like a city on a hill.

Or does hope this day, lie in what is unfolding, a hope in what is yet to come? Does our hopeful rest and consolation come from our trust in the promises of this King, in the future state of our world? If this is the case, we return to the age-old adage, how then shall we live?

As you ponder today, consider some thoughts from Paul. In his first letter to the church in Corinth, he reminds us that we currently see merely a reflection and that one day we shall see face to face, and we shall know and be known in all the fullness of God. But for now faith, hope and love remain…..faith, hope and love with be our guiding lights for the journey.

Here's a short liturgy I wrote and used for this Advent week a couple of years ago in our church community in Dunbar. My hope is that you find these words drawing you into the heart and embrace of Jesus and the ways in which he comes to you this Advent. Draw near to him, and he will also draw near to you.

Liturgy of Advent Hope

(To be read alone or as a group)

I’m choosing Hope

I say ‘choose’ because sometimes

I don't want to.

It’s risky, vulnerable,

What if it fails?

What if my longings are never realised?

My heart and my flesh may fail but You are the strength of my heart, You are my Hope.

I hope to enter in,

To see Your beauty and the sacredness of the ordinary;

To laugh heartily from some place deep in my soul;

To witness the low winter sun, bathing the ocean and the treetops

In burnt orange glory.

For God alone my soul waits in silence, for my hope is from Him.

Hope arrives on the wings of a promise.

Donkeys, Shepherds, Prophets and Priests

Lost in wonder, love and praise.

Will my eyes too, see your salvation?

Will the light of revelation fall upon my troubled heart?

With eyes fixed on this Child, this Kingdom-Bringer, may the glory of His face rest gently upon us.

I lift my gaze to a mountain’s grandeur,

Resting in the silence only a winter’s night can bring:

Crackling fires

Cold fingertips

Ancient stories

Heavenly songs.

We see only in part, yet we hope in the unfolding nature of renewal and restoration.

In the birth of the Ancient of Days,

In the quiet of a baby’s slumber,

In the treasure of a mother’s heart and

In the joy of a father’s smile,

In the assurance of a prophet’s voice from the wilderness,

Hope is welcomed in, and we find our awakened hearts glimpsing home.

Amen.

Jon Timms

Joint CEO, Rural Ministries