I pray that your hearts will be flooded with light so that you can understand the confident hope he has given to those he called—his holy people who are his rich and glorious inheritance. I also pray that you will understand the incredible greatness of God’s power for us who believe him. This is the same mighty power that raised Christ from the dead and seated him in the place of honor at God’s right hand in the heavenly realms. [Ephesians 1:18-20 (NLT)]
Without Christ there is no hope. [Charles Spurgeon]
According to the Greek myth, when Zeus presented a beautiful jar to Pandora as part of her dowry, he forbade her to open it. Curiosity, however, got the best of her. When she lifted its lid to peek into the jar, all the malevolence and afflictions Zeus hid inside were released. As evils like sickness, chaos, death, conflict, hatred, jealousy, sorrow, envy, lust, famine, and violence came rushing out , the terrified woman quickly replaced its lid. All that remained in the jar was hope—the only consolation humans have for the trouble and suffering Pandora let loose upon the world.
Of course, it wasn’t Pandora who brought misery into the world—it was Adam and Eve who brought sin, misery, and death into the world with their disobedience. Rather than remaining in Pandora’s jar, hope came to the world in a baby born in Bethlehem about 2,000 years ago.
How many times this past week did you hope? Did you hope the family would arrive safely, the turkey would be done on time, the rolls wouldn’t burn, or that no one would argue about politics at dinner? We hope for things both large and small—getting a raise, excellent grades, better health, reconciliation, a good night’s sleep, a winning season for our team, a cure for cancer, an on-time departure, finding the perfect gift, world peace, the winning lottery ticket, or a better tomorrow.
Biblical hope, however, isn’t about expecting better circumstances. Biblical hope is living through the storms, loss, pain, and disorder of this life while holding on to the hope that God will show up right in the middle of our mess! In the darkness of our lives and today’s troubled world, Christ’s followers have hope regardless of whether our circumstances change for the better or the worse. We have hope because we know the One who holds our future in His hands. We have hope because we know that He is with us every step of the way. Best of all, we have hope because we know how the story ends—and its end is better than anything we possibly could imagine!
Yesterday was the first Sunday in Advent—the four-week season in the Church calendar dedicated as much to the Messiah’s second arrival as to His first! In observance of this season of preparation, last night we lit the first candle (the candle of hope) in our Advent wreath. A circular garland of evergreen, the wreath’s greens represent eternal life and its round shape represents God’s unending love. Often called the prophecy candle, it reminds us that the Messiah’s arrival, death, resurrection, and return in final victory were prophesied hundreds of years before His birth. This first candle represents mankind’s past hope for the coming of the promised Messiah, our present hope because of Jesus’ presence in our lives, and our future hope for His promised return.
Hope came into the world with the birth of Jesus—Immanuel—God with us. God gave us hope with His forgiveness of sins, our salvation, and His promise of peace. He gave us hope with the resurrection of the dead, the communion of saints, the redemption of creation, the Holy Spirit, the return of Christ, and the life of the world to come. Thank you, Heavenly Father, for the gift of hope.
The Christmas message is that there is hope for a ruined humanity—hope of pardon, hope of peace with God, hope of glory—because, at the Father’s will, Jesus became poor and was born in a stable so that thirty years later He might hang on a cross. [J.I. Packer]
When I was a girl (back in the days of pen, paper, and postage stamps), my mother insisted that I write a “thank you” note for any gifts I received. Whether my birthday or Christmas, I was not allowed to enjoy any gifts until the necessary notes had been written. Moreover, each note had to be personal. I couldn’t just write a quick generic, “Thank you for the nice present.” I had to say something specific about the gift and, if it was money, I had to say how I planned on using it. Even if the present was something I really didn’t like or want (and we’ve all had those kinds of gifts), I had to express gratitude. My mother reminded me that, while I might not value the gift, someone else’s time, thought, love, and money had gone into getting it for me. Therefore, I should take the time to properly acknowledge and show my appreciation for the giver’s generosity. Her “thank you” note rule also applied whenever someone did something special for me. If a family took me to an event or I’d spent the night at a friend’s house, a note of thanks had to be written.
For those of us who attend liturgical churches, yesterday was the last Sunday of the liturgical (or church) year: Christ the King Sunday. A kind of liturgical “New Year’s Eve,” it is the climax and conclusion of the Church’s year.
In C.S. Lewis’ children’s fantasy novel The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the youngest child, Lucy Pevensie, happens upon an enchanted armoire and steps into the magical world of Narnia. Upon returning, she rushes to tell her siblings of her astonishing adventure. Hearing such a tall tale and finding no concrete proof of its truth, her older siblings assume the story to be a figment of her imagination. They take their concern over her falsehood to their wise elderly uncle. He cautions them to use logic and consider Lucy’s story carefully. He points out there are only three possibilities: either she’s lying, crazy, or telling the truth. After pointing out that lies usually are more plausible than Lucy’s inexplicable tale, he asks if she’s lied before. The children admit she’s always been truthful. After pointing out that none of Lucy’s behavior indicates mental illness, they all agree she can’t have gone mad. He then suggests that since she’s neither a liar nor crazy, they could consider the possibility that Lucy’s story is true.
Our old friend Joe recently visited. Along with our friend Ric, he and my husband were partners in a manufacturing business in another state many years ago. Once a year, the three men would meet away from the business (with its phone calls and constant interruptions) to discuss their short-term and long-term business goals. While Ric and my husband were the legal, financial, and sales parts of the business, as a processing engineer, Joe oversaw manufacturing.
A certain amount of discontent seems to be built into us, which isn’t all bad since discontent can be the incentive to make improvements. Dissatisfaction with the harpsichord’s inability to vary the intensity of its sound led Bartolomeo Cristofori to invent the piano around 1708. Benjamin Franklin’s annoyance at having to switch between two pairs of glasses led to his invention of bifocals and it probably was his discontent with a cold house that led to his invention of the metal-lined Franklin stove. The invention of the “ballbarrow,” with its rust-proof plastic bin and ball-shaped wheel that won’t sink into soft soil, is the result of James Dyson’s discontent with the traditional wheelbarrow. As Thomas Edison said, “Discontent is the first necessity of progress.”
Devotions of the Heart 