Advent Reflection Week One: HOPE
A few Christmas cards floated into my family’s mailbox this past weekend, all mentioning that 2020 was a year that was well, not to be mentioned. 2020, the year of virtual graduations, E-Learning, canceled family vacations and tie dye tracks suits was also, more seriously, the year of mass unemployment, overcrowded hospitals, loneliness, isolation, and unearthed racism and bigotry. 2020: a mess, a disaster, a “dumpster fire;” it’s easy to note and dissect what all went wrong, but what all went right?
A few weeks ago I was teaching my 2nd and 3rd grade students about Moses and the Israelites. Of course, they had seen the movie and learned the words to the “Pharaoh, Pharaoh” song; "the Israelites were free! Moses parted the Red Sea! God prevails!" It’s easy to see what went right in this story: God saves his chosen people and they all live happily ever after, praising him and living holy, joyful lives. However, the Disney version of the story is not actually what happened. Just a few verses in Exodus later, after Moses parts the Red Sea and God saves the Israelites once again, the Israelites are back to complaining and doubting. A few long days of wandering through the desert in search of the promised land resulted in the Israelites losing all hope.
“The Israelites look at life like it’s a glass half empty!” shouted out one of my students. “It’s called perspective, Miss Nelson, they need to see a glass half full." Later, that same student wrote in a reflection, “even when our faith is a rollercoaster road, we are still on the Highway to Heaven." My young students' words took me back...he was right. Instead of celebrating their freedom, the Israelites dove into their fear. Instead of thanking God, they doubted Him. "How often am I an Israelite?," I thought to myself. When we take a step back and look at the full story of the Israelites, it's easy to see that God was at work and it's even easier to say that the Israelites were cowardly and unfaithful. Unlike the Israelites, we don’t have access to that full scope and sequence of our lives. Instead, we, as Christians today, must have hope in what's to come, without any idea of what is actually to come.
As we navigate our way through the first week of Advent and the liturgical year waxes as the calendar year wanes, I am choosing to look at this year as a glass half full, remembering each blessing as a thill of hope, a glimpse into the Kingdom of God, a glimpse of what's to come.
Earlier this year I moved across the country and started a two year service program through the University of Notre Dame. This wasn’t the biggest or furthest move I had ever made, but I still cried the majority of the flight. I arrived in San Antonio, Texas broken and feeling more displaced than ever. As I stepped off the plane I wondered when this strange, new city would ever feel like home. About a week later, I found myself power washing folding chairs and tables at the new parish community I was apart of. Mariachi music from the neighboring lawn blared in the background as I washed the tables in the suffocating South Texas heat. I felt a lot like an Israelite in this moment; power-washing tables in 100-degree heat at a parish that, at the time, meant absolutely nothing to me. I knew better than to doubt God because I have seen God pull through for me before, but while I was power-washing those tables and chairs in the Mid-August sun, I doubted that Jesus had anything good for me in store.
I must have worn my hopelessness on my sleeve as a parishioner, Beth, approached me while she was leaving daily Mass. “They’re putting you to work already, sweetheart?” she asked with a sincere smile on her face. “Yes, ma’am” I replied not setting the hose down. She continued to introduce herself and I continued to respond in annoyance. Cleary taking note of my annoyance she said, “Look, this place may not be your first choice, and hell, this year is not what anyone anticipated, but if I’ve learned anything in the past 67 years it’s been to thank God in advance and prepare for little thrills of hope. There is always a bit of good even when it all seems bad.”
While this year may not have been perfect by any means, Beth was right. Life is littered with thrills of hope. Christ’s love is available to us even when we are wandering through a literal or metaphorical desert. As we dive into this season of Advent, consider what thrills of hope God has blessed you with this year.
How has God revealed himself to you?
What challenges have you overcome?
What relationships have been evidence of God’s friendship in your own life?
I hope we all look at life as a glass half full and notice the thrills of hope that weave in and out of our imperfect lives and ever-changing relationship with Christ and the Church.
Written by Our Revealer: Terra Nelson
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