An Unlikely Hope

This Sunday, the Third Sunday of Advent, we will be lighting the candle of Peace on the Advent wreath at Newtown United Methodist Church. In a passage from Isaiah that's often read during Advent, the prophet casts an idyllic image of future peace for the People of God when he writes:

The wolf live with the lamb,

And the leopard will lie down with the goat,

The calf and the lion and the yearling together,

And a little child will lead them.
-Isaiah 11:6 (NIV)

Linton Memorial Park - Newtown, PA

One winter evening in 1980, my father happened upon a scene which, when I first read his description of it, etched in my mind something of the meaning of this famous line from Isaiah: "And a little child will lead them." Here's what Dad wrote:

"I pulled to a stop at a red light at the intersection of 6th and Northampton Streets in Easton, Pennsylvania. This was a section of the city besieged by urban decay, a place where the tragedy of urban living was at its worst. As I waited for the light to change, a poorly clad girl of about 8 or 9 years of age led a man by the hand whom I judged to be her father – a man who was drunk and could hardly keep his balance. The girl carefully led him off the curb and slowly across the crosswalk in front of my car, pulling him, steadying him, urging him on, until they reached the other side, and presumably from there made their way home in similar fashion. As I watched this scene unfold, a deep emotion flooded my soul as I realized how God sends his love and care to us, even when we are at our disgustingly worst – in the most fragile and unlikely ways, even in a little girl such as this one.

We live in a world that is very dark, ugly and dangerous, just as it was that cold night at 6th and Northampton Streets. Sometimes this dark ugliness is within us, sometimes it is around us, but in either case God always sends signs of hope, fragile signs, signs which we can perceive only with the eyes of faith. Strange as it seems, Christian hope is often found in unlikely places. In fact, Christian hope has a way of burning brightest on the most darkened stage. Christmas, coming when it does, reminds us of this. Christmas is not observed in the beautiful springtime. It is celebrated at the dark winter solstice. The date of December 25th does not have historical importance. Instead, it has theological importance.

The ultimate hope for us resides in a baby laid in a manger in a backwater town called Bethlehem. Such an unlikely hope! And yet God’s word and our Christian experience tell us that Almighty God himself came to visit us in that humble child. He came to show us that he loves us still, in spite of the darkness within us, and he wants us to love him. God’s love comes gently as a child. It doesn't coerce or overwhelm. It doesn't dazzle or manipulate. God’s love comes quietly, as quietly as the cry of a newborn. It is God’s subtle yet forceful reminder that God’s kingdom is on the horizon, and if we quiet our restless lives and allow it, God will fill us with his love. God will fill us with himself. This allowing God to fill us is faith, and faith is the way we know that, unlikely hope though he may be, this baby Jesus is indeed our Savior."

From: "An Unlikely Hope"
Scripture: Isaiah 11:1-9; Matthew 11:2-11