Advent is a time for the human heart to wait, while trusting God’s eternal time. That phrase from our call to worship and the lighting of the Advent candle captures the tension of this season perfectly. We live in a world that prizes instant answers, quick fixes, and immediate gratification. Yet Advent invites us to slow down, to lean into the mystery of God’s timing, and to rediscover hope—not in what we can control, but in the One who holds all time in his hands.

“How long, O Lord, how long?” That cry echoes through Scripture and through our own hearts. How long until prayers are answered? How long until justice rolls down like waters? How long until peace replaces violence? Advent doesn’t give us a countdown clock. Instead, it gives us a candle—a flicker of light in the darkness—to remind us that hope is not wishful thinking; hope is confidence in God’s promises.

Isaiah 2 paints a breathtaking picture: nations streaming to the mountain of the Lord, swords beaten into plowshares, spears into pruning hooks. Can you imagine that? Weapons transformed into tools for life. Isaiah’s vision is not naïve optimism; it’s a promise rooted in God’s character. “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord,” Isaiah says. Advent hope begins with a choice—to walk in God’s light even when the world feels dark.

The psalmist sings, “I was glad when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord.’” In a world fractured by fear and division, the psalm calls us to seek the peace of Jerusalem—not just a city, but a symbol of God’s dwelling among the people. Advent hope is communal. It’s not just about my waiting; it’s about our waiting together. That’s why we gather, light candles, and pray: “Grant that we might have the peace of Christ as we wait, the love of Christ as we act, and the grace of Christ as we speak.”

Paul’s words in Romans are urgent: “You know what time it is—the hour has come for you to wake from sleep.” Advent is not passive waiting; it’s active readiness. Paul says, “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ.” In other words, clothe yourself in hope. Live as if the light has already dawned, because in Christ, it has. Hope changes how we live now—how we speak, how we give, how we forgive.

Then Jesus reminds us in Matthew: “About that day and hour no one knows.” Not even the angels. Not even the Son. Only the Father. That’s humbling, isn’t it? We don’t get the timeline. We get the posture: watchfulness. Jesus isn’t trying to scare us; he’s inviting us to trust. To live every day as if God’s kingdom could break in at any moment. Because it can.

So what does hope look like in this Advent season?

• For those waiting for answered prayer: hope looks like steadfast patience.

• For those waiting in uncertainty: hope looks like unshakable confidence in God’s provision.

• For those longing for justice: hope looks like glimpses of God’s glory in a wounded world.

Hope is not passive. It acts. It speaks. It loves. It lights candles in the dark and says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

This morning, we light the first candle of Advent—a candle of hope. It reminds us that throughout history, God’s people have waited, wandered, and wondered about the timing of God’s eternal plan. Like them, we long for God’s presence to illuminate the places where we wait. So we echo the psalmist: “Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” (Psalm 27:14)

Friends, Advent hope is not about knowing when Christ will come. It’s about trusting that he will—and living today in the light of that promise. So let’s go forth into the world as people of gratitude and mercy, giving thanks not only for abundance, but for the shepherd who gathers, the Savior who reconciles, and the King who remembers. Amen.