Miracle: David Wilcox
A bright star in the winter sky
Led to Bethlehem that night
But only three traveled there to see
And the rest just wished they mightFew will chose to follow
Out of all the star invites
Most will hide safe inside
With the lantern turned up brightWaiting for a miracle
All too often I think this is our definition of hope – waiting around for the miraculous to come to us. Safe in our feel good faith, we light bright lanterns around us to drive away the darkness of doubt and despair. “Daily Bread” devotions, “God loves me” choruses, inspirational verses molded in Made in China polyresin, guardian angel trinkets. All decent uplifting items that serve to bolster our emotional experience of faith and give us a vague sense of hope. What that hope is we can’t describe, but we are sure it will make us happy.
But instead we allow these false lights to insidiously insinuate themselves as the very objects of our faith. We trust more in how they make us feel than in the one we claim to follow. The artifices of faith become our prison, entrapping us in the confines of a misguided belief. We are used to their false light – it’s neon radiance makes us feel good. So we surround ourselves with more and more, preferring the safety of the known (no matter how shallow and hollow it might be) to the true reality of faith. We keep waiting for a miracle, but we are uncomfortable stepping outside into the dimly lit unknown.
But as T.S. Eliot mentioned, those magi following that star had a hard time of it. The journey was difficult. Unsure of exactly where they were going or what they would find when they arrived, they just knew they had to journey on. A distant star, days of toil, endless doubt and questions, ridicule and remorse – these defined their hope. But they didn’t settle for safety or that which confirmed what they already knew. They sought a miracle and that hope sustained their journey.
As Advent begins I ask myself where does my hope lead. Is my hope in the trappings of faith and the season? Is it merely in the idea of deliverance? Such things lead me back into myself and my personal need for safety and contentment. Or does it lead beyond myself into this journey I am called to? Does it push me to follow in the path of love, doubt, hardship, service, and joy? This hope trusts in the way of life Christ called us to and follows that path wherever it may lead. Hope defines us, shapes us, and guides us even through the darkness.
So as we light this candle of hope tonight I wonder if it is a light that shores up the safety of our emotions or which guides us faithfully into the unknown.