BEING HUMAN

Day 22, 22 December 2024, the 1033rd day of the full-scale war.

In this Advent season, as the war goes on and physical and psychological and spiritual darkness seems to prevail, where do we find hope? Like Simeon and Anna, two old people who spent their days seeking God, how do we perceive a glimmer of light inside the gloom? Where do we find strength to persevere in faith while war and occupation shake our world?

“So he came by the Spirit into the temple… and this woman was a widow of about eighty-four years, who did not depart from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day” (Luke 2:27, 37, NKJV).

Simeon and Anna were no strangers to waiting. Both were advanced in years and had witnessed many turns of life under an occupation, and neither lost hope that God would keep His promises. Simeon had been assured that he would not die before seeing the Messiah, while Anna, a widow of eighty-four, never ceased her worship and fasting and prayer.

Their perseverance was rewarded when Mary and Joseph brought the infant Jesus to the temple. Simeon took the child in his arms and proclaimed Him to be God’s salvation, a light of revelation for the nations (Luke 2:32). Anna gave thanks and spoke about Him to everyone who was waiting for redemption (Luke 2:38). In this child they glimpsed the future God was unfolding, and though they stood in the twilight of their own lives, the eyes of their faith could see a new dawn breaking. The Messiah had come, not as a conquering king who protects traditional values, but as a child who chose to suffer alongside the oppressed. The promise of peace and reconciliation and salvation rested in Him, a hope that transcended their present circumstances.

Advent is a season of waiting and longing. As God’s people once waited for the first coming, we now await the second, when He will restore all things, including the broken windows of our souls. In the meantime we are called to live as a community of hope, and holding on to hope is not always easy, especially when the world around us is so badly broken. War and injustice and sickness and death make God’s promises feel distant, and we find ourselves asking, as the psalmist did, why the Lord stands far off and hides Himself in times of trouble (Psalm 10:1).

In those moments we learn to cling more firmly to the hope we have in Christ. His birth and life and death and resurrection secured for us an inheritance that cannot perish or fade (1 Peter 1:4). We suffer trials in this life, and we remind ourselves day and night that they are temporary, that Jesus has overcome the world and is making all things new, already and not yet. We are still learning to carry that hope inside us, under every massive strike, at every funeral.

Like Simeon and Anna, we learn to bear witness to the light of Christ even in the darkest times. It means weeping with those who weep, serving the vulnerable and the oppressed, testifying boldly to God’s love and salvation. In a world of despair we are still learning to carry the hope of the Gospel within us, even if you do not often notice it.

The hope we have in Christ is a firm anchor for the soul rather than a fragile dream. It does not disappoint, even when we go through this valley of death disappointed in God, since it is rooted in His unchanging character and His promises. As we await its full realization, we learn, like Simeon and Anna, to be found watching and praying and bearing witness to the light.

Even if the world grows tired of news about communities of hope in Ukraine, in the Middle East, in Sudan, in Somalia, in every other place still called a conflict or a situation. For the darkness will not overcome the presence of Emmanuel, and each day we learn to recognize it as those two old people did. One day He will make all things new. One day, though not today, and not through the coming night of another massive strike that kills the people we love and ruins our towns.

Prince of Peace, as we reflect on the persevering faith of Simeon and Anna, grant us a measure of their trust and hope in this third Advent of the war. Even as darkness and despair abound, anchor our hearts in the unshakable hope found in You alone. Comfort us here. Comfort those in the Middle East and in every other place suffering under a war. For You Yourself once called out: comfort My people. Like Simeon and Anna, we are learning to watch for Your presence night and day, until the day of Your coming. We pray in the name of Jesus Christ, Lord of those who wait and long. Amen.