It begins again. The natural rhythm of life: restoring, renewing, resetting, bringing us back home to the centre. The centre which is God. This is Advent. Shifting our time towards God’s time: a time of renewing, refreshing, beginning. How many of us go back to the wisdom of Ecclesiasticus “for everything there is a season. A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and time to harvest” Just as the leaves finish falling, just as the darkness grows thicker, just as the year feels spent and tired, God whispers a surprising word into the world: Hope. Not optimism…hope. Not naïve cheerfulness…but hope. Hope is the quiet courage it takes to begin anew. It is what nature teaches us, if we look carefully into what each new sunrise brings. It is what life teaches us: if are attentive to life’s endings and beginnings. Today we explore the hope that is found in God’s new beginnings. We step into a new church year, and our first step is always the same: we wait in hope.
But Advent waiting is not passive. Advent waiting isn’t sitting on our hands, or staring at the horizon, or pretending all is well. Advent waiting is active hope. It is the decision to prepare our hearts and our lives for God’s new thing long before we can see it, name it, or understand it. Active hope is at the foundation of faith. As we trust that God is not done with us: not personally, not as a church, not as a world. And that kind of waiting on God’s time takes courage… “the courage to begin again”.
Isaiah begins today with a picture that feels almost impossible: “In the days to come… all nations shall stream to the mountain of the Lord.” People walking toward God, not toward conflict. People choosing learning over violence. People taking swords, the tools of war, and hammering them into plowshares, the tools used by a farmer. In Isaih’s prophecy we see a picture of the world as God dreams it: growth and nourishment…light and community.
But that world is the world that is ‘not yet’. Isaiah’s community lived in fear and instability. They had seen political turmoil, spiritual decline, and threats pressing in from every side. And yet Isaiah dares to imagine something different. Isaiah dares to say: God’s future is coming. He dares to call people to “walk in the light of the Lord” even before that light had dawned. Isaiah’s hope wasn’t a feeling…it was courage. It was holy defiance. It was the bravery to begin anew.
Shifting to the gospel according to Matthew which is, by the way, our main gospel writer for this year ahead. (You will recall that last year’s focus was Luke). Here in Matthew, Jesus speaks about another kind of “beginning again.” He tells the disciples that God’s new day comes unexpectedly. It arrives like a homeowner who wakes to the sound of a thief at the door. Not predictable. Not scheduled. Not controlled. The point Matthew makes, here, isn’t about fear. The point is about attentiveness. Jesus says: “Keep awake.” Stay open. Stay ready. Stay courageous enough to participate in the changes God is about to birth. The holy often arrives in ways we don’t expect; it comes on timelines we don’t choose. Advent reminds us that God interrupts the familiar so that new things can grow.
Every one of us knows what it is to face seasons of change. What seasons are you facing today? A diagnosis; A change in health; A new job; A child leaving home; A partner lost; A dream shifting; A sense of belonging that no longer fits the way it used to. Change exposes us. And when life shifts under our feet, the temptation always is to cling. We cling to what we know; we cling to what once was; we cling to the illusion that we can hold everything together (as if we ever could!).
But Advent teaches us something else: It teaches us hope! Hope is the courage to take the first step even when you cannot see the whole path. Hope is what makes change holy. Hope whispers “You do not have to be who you were last year.” “You are allowed to grow.” “You are allowed to heal.” “You can begin again.” And hope is also what allows us to say, “God is with me in the uncertainty. God is with me in the waiting. God is with me in the change.” Advent is not about pretending the world is fine; it is about trusting that God is at work in the not-yet, the unclear…trusting that God is ALWAYS at work.
And this is also the story of our beloved Church, especially our United Church, right now. Across our denomination, we are entering our own Advent season of change. You may have read about the “Toward 2035” initiative which acknowledges what many of us have felt for years: that our denomination is shifting, shrinking, aging, and facing realities we can no longer ignore. But “Toward 2035” also declares another truth: God still has a future for us. “Toward 2035” calls us to look honestly at the present…its joys and its limits, and then to imagine boldly what ministry could look like ten years from now. I think one of the most beautiful things that happened to our denomination was the celebration of our centennial. It has caused us to look ahead with intent, with focus, with faith.
I think “Toward 2035” invites us to: Discover our “why” again. What is the heart of our mission here? Why do we exist in this neighbourhoods? It also invites us to Relearn the art of invitation. Not as membership recruitment, but as genuine hospitality. “Toward 2035” invites us to get to Know our neighbours more deeply. Not just to fill chairs and offerings, but because Christ leads us toward relationship. In addition, Toward 2035 invites us to collaborate and share resources. Because the Spirit moves through networks, not isolation. And we have been alone, isolated in our own congregations, for too too long. And finally, Toward 2035 invites us to let the Gospel shape us more than our fears. Because hope, not anxiety, hope is the soil where communities grow. If Toward 2035 were simply a business plan, it would not inspire much hope. Yet, it is not a business plan, it is a call to prepare for the birthing of God’s plan.
Putting it all together, at its heart “Toward 2035” asks a profoundly spiritual question: Can we trust that God is still leading us into the future? A future we cannot fully see, but one we can faithfully prepare for? That question is Advent in its purest form. Like Isaiah’s people, we know the challenges are real. Like the disciples in Matthew, we do not know the hour, or the time, or the details. Yet Advent says: Walk in the light anyway: Prepare anyway: Hope anyway. Because Christ’s hope does not depend on perfect conditions; it depends on the God who is with us in the dark, guiding us toward the birthing dawn.
Isaiah ends today with the words: “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.” He doesn’t say the light has fully arrived, let’s walk. He says: Walk in it anyway. Step toward the future God promises. Carry hope into a world that desperately needs it. Maybe that’s why the Church starts its year in the dark days of December? Reminding us that God’s light always finds us first. Reminding us that beginnings often feel like uncertainty. Reminding us that hope is a choice…a courageous, holy choice. And so, in Advent, we begin anew trusting that the God who is birthed to us in Jesus Christ is coming…is transforming…is making all things new.
Change is not the enemy. Change, in God’s hands, is holy. And Advent invites us, both personally and as a church, to take the next brave step toward God’s new day. Come let us walk towards the manger with hope.
Amen.