Advent Hope

We have entered once again into the sacred season of Advent—a time when the Church gathers to remember and celebrate the deep gifts of hope, joy, peace, love, and the wondrous birth of our Saviour. Yet this year, as we speak of hope, we do so in a world that feels weighed down by despondency; as we proclaim light, we do so while shadows and darkness seem to linger around us. Advent does not deny these realities. Instead, it invites us to lift our eyes toward the God who steps into our troubled world with promise, compassion, and redeeming presence. In this holy season, we are called not merely to observe a tradition, but to rediscover the steady, life-giving hope that Christ brings—hope strong enough for the hardest days and bright enough for the darkest nights.

Advent begins in the shadows. It does not pretend that the world is already as it should be. Instead, it enters the darkness with honesty — the kind of honesty Dietrich Bonhoeffer names when he says, “The celebration of Advent is possible only to those who are troubled in soul, who know themselves to be poor and imperfect, and who look forward to something greater to come.” Advent is for the weary, the uncertain, the ones who feel the fractures of life. It is for ordinary people carrying extraordinary burdens — and still daring to hope.

Because hope, in the biblical sense, is not a thin wishfulness. It is not optimism. As one reflection puts it, “Hope in Advent is not optimism; it is the courage to trust that God is already on the way.” Desmond Tutu reminds us that “Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness,” and Victor Hugo adds that “even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” Hope does not deny the night; it simply declares, with quiet courage, that morning is coming.

In fact, hope grows in honest places — “in honest soil, watered by tears, warmed by courage.” It is born in people who refuse to give up, even when the path is unclear. As we step into Advent, Rowan Williams helps us understand what this season trains us to do: “Advent is a time when we train ourselves to see what is invisible — the workings of grace beneath the surface of our waiting.” Word becoming flesh is the invisible becoming visible, the distant becoming near and the incognihensible becoming cognihensible.

And that is precisely what Isaiah invites us into in Isaiah 2:1–5, the prophet looks out over a world filled with conflict and fear- not very different from the world many of us live in, yet dares to envision God’s future breaking in — a future where swords become plowshares, where nations learn war no more, and where people walk in the light of the Lord. Isaiah looks at a world that is not yet healed and proclaims the world that will be.

He speaks into the world’s night and says, “Morning is coming.” He speaks into deep pits of despair and echoes Corrie ten Boom’s promise: “There is no pit so deep, that God’s love is not deeper still.” Isaiah’s vision is not escapism; it is hope — steady, stubborn, Spirit-born hope.

And this is what ordinary people like us carry: not perfect faith, not untroubled hearts, but the simple courage to rise, to listen, to walk toward God’s promised future. “Ordinary people carry extraordinary hope simply by refusing to give up.”

So, as we celebrate another Advent, we join the prophet’s call:
Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord and we pray O come O come Immanuel.

We walk not because the world is already bright, but because we trust the One who brings the dawn.

As we journey through this sacred season, may Advent move from the pages of Scripture into the rhythms of our daily lives. Let this be a time when hope does not remain a beautiful idea, but becomes a lived practice — shaping our choices, our relationships, and our witness in a tired world. As a community of faith, let us commit ourselves to three simple yet transformative practices this Advent:

• Cultivate quiet moments with God each day, allowing Scripture, prayer, and silence to rekindle the light within us; 
• Cultivate hope at home by nurturing your closest relationships.Create unrushed, meaningful time with your family and dear ones — for hope must first be born where we live. Refrain from complaining, blaming, or pointing fingers, however great the provocation. Choose instead to build one another up with patience, gentleness, and grace.
• Speak life-giving words — words of kindness, encouragement, and healing that become honey to weary souls; and 
• Perform atleast one intentional act of hope each day, whether by reaching out to someone lonely, offering forgiveness, or serving someone in need. In doing these, we do not merely observe Advent — we embody it.

May Christ, our coming Light, guide our steps, strengthen our hearts, and fill us with a hope that endures. Come, Lord Jesus. Come, O Emmanuel.

Vinod Victor

December 2025