Christmas Message
A season of Hope - Christmas 2020
20 December 2020· John Harding
In the final part of our Christmas 2020 series, we turn to hope. After a year that tested everyone, we explore what real hope looks like when it is not just wishful thinking but something anchored and resilient.
The Word Ancient Cultures Did Not Have
Hope is one of those words that gets used so casually it can lose its weight. We hope it will not rain. We hope our team wins. We hope the queue at the supermarket moves faster. But strip away the casual usage and sit with the word properly, and something far more significant emerges.
In this Christmas talk, a fascinating historical observation was made. Vincent Donovan, a Roman Catholic missionary working with the Maasai peoples of East Africa in the 1970s, discovered something remarkable as he learned their language and attempted to translate the Bible. At the time, there was no word in the Maasai language for hope.
And it was not just the Maasai. The argument, laid out in Donovan's book Christianity Rediscovered, is that this was the case for most ancient cultures and traditions. People did not tend to talk about hope because the future was too brutal, too unpredictable, too uncertain to waste time dreaming about.
The Vikings, for example, carved two ravens onto their shields and doors. One for the past. One for the present. There was no point in a symbol for the future. They believed hope was "nothing more than the slobber dripping from the mouth of a mythical wolf."
The ancient Greeks were not much better. In the story of Zeus and Pandora's box, hope is released into the world alongside all the evils, but across all the Greek philosophers and all their writing, hope remained a vague, minor idea.
And then along came Jesus.
More Than Wishful Thinking
The Christian understanding of hope is not about positive thinking. It is not a vague wish that things will get better. It is a specific confidence rooted in a specific claim: that God is good, that he gives good gifts, and that because of Jesus, tomorrow can be genuinely better than today.
The analogy used in the talk was simple but effective. Think of a child on Christmas Eve, looking at the presents under the tree. That child does not know what is inside the wrapping. But they know it will be good, because they know the person who put it there.
"As followers of Jesus, we do not know what tomorrow will bring. But we are like that kid waiting for Christmas, because we know that our heavenly Father is so good, utterly good. God is good, and he gives good gifts to his children. So what awaits us is good. That is hope."
This is not the same as saying life will be easy. The talk was clear on that point. Following Jesus does not mean you will always have money in the bank, perfect health, or universal admiration. But it does change the trajectory. It shifts the direction of travel.
What Hope Looks Like in a Prison
One of the most striking examples came from a local prison. A church member called Paul Brown works with prisoners through the Message Trust, and dozens of young men have been receiving the gift of Jesus each year inside those walls.
The results have been tangible. "This prison has gone from being the prison with the most recorded violent crimes to the prison with one of the least, in just a two-year period."
When a young man in that prison encounters Jesus, something visible changes. "The gang members shave off their ketwigs, their gang-style haircuts, just to show other prisoners they have had a change of identity. They go from being violent towards staff and other prisoners to defending prisoners and officers from attack."
When they leave prison, the reoffending rates drop significantly. The government funds the project. These are not abstract theological claims. They are measurable outcomes.
And then there was Hannah. Homeless. She came into one of the church's Genesis houses, encountered the love of God through the love of his people, began working in a nursery, trained up, got a job, got her own place. "That is a story of hope. Someone who stepped into a better tomorrow."
The Anchor for a Restless Soul
The Bible describes hope as an anchor for the soul, and that image resonated throughout the talk. In a year defined by uncertainty, by announcements that knocked people down just as they were starting to stand up again, the idea of something that tethers the soul has a particular power.
"I come across people all the time, even myself sometimes, when your soul just feels restless. But hope is the anchor of your soul. It tethers you down. It brings that stability."
Hope, defined in this context, is not the absence of difficulty. It is the confidence that you are not walking through difficulty alone. And this is where the Christmas story becomes more than a nativity scene on a mantelpiece.
The Christmas No One Wanted
A prayer read during the service, written by author Pete Greig, reframed the first Christmas in a way that lands differently when life is hard.
"Let us return to that first Christmas. To find a fearful mother as she brings her baby into such a dark place and time in history. It is not what she wanted. See the uncertainty etched in the man's features, worried and unable to properly provide, feeling clumsy, unsure of his own role and involvement. It is not what he wanted."
"Consider their sense of isolation at a time of such vulnerability. Far away from loved ones and home. It is not what they wanted. Imagine the frustration they feel, forced to be here now, against their will, at this most intimate moment, by the relentless demands of a distant government."
And then the punch line: "Perhaps we may celebrate with new understanding the Christmas no one wanted. The fragility of life in the shadow of death. The hope of healing in a dangerous environment. The love, ephemeral yet eternal, born to a tiny, vulnerable, isolated, disorientated, disappointed, fearful, fragile family."
"Which is Emmanuel. God with us, when others cannot be with us. A light that shines in the darkness. A defiant hope, in spite of everything."
You Will Never Walk Alone
Being based in Liverpool, the talk naturally found its way to the anthem that echoes through that city on match days. "Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart, and you will never walk alone."
Whether you are red, blue, or have no interest in football whatsoever, the sentiment transcends the sport. The reason Christians have hope, the talk argued, is not because of a vaccine or a government strategy or an improving economy. It is because of a promise that God walks through life with his people.
"Whatever lockdowns or tiers or restrictions we might be placed in, we know that God walks through life with us. God is with us. And that is why we walk with immense hope in our hearts."
This is what the name Emmanuel means. God with us. Not God watching from a distance. Not God waiting for us to sort ourselves out. God here, present, in the mess and the uncertainty and the fear.
Receiving the Gift
The invitation at the heart of this Christmas message was not to try harder, believe more, or fix your life. It was simply to receive something that is being offered.
"Receive his presence as a gift this Christmas. It will change the trajectory, the course of your life. It will fill you with unshakeable hope and peace and joy."
Hope, as the Bible defines it, is to expect with confidence what God has promised. Not to know every detail of what tomorrow holds, but to know the character of the one who holds it.
What would it look like to receive that kind of hope today?