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Sermon Archive - December 2, 2001
Advent I
Extravagant Hope
Pastor Holmer
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Advent is a season of hope. The color for Advent is blue: for hope
extends as high as the sky and as deep as the deep blue sea. As
the days
grow shorter and the darkness deepens and winter comes on, we
look for
signs of hope. We live in hope: hope for the light; hope for
salvation.
Hope is one of the main pillars on which a Christian life is
founded.
Along with faith and love, it is one of the few things that
endures.
Hope is a big thing—so big I can’t do it justice in one sermon.
So, I’m
going to preach on hope these first three Sundays in Advent. My
aim is to
stir up the hope that God has placed in each of your hearts.
I begin with the necessity of hope: why it matters. Now, in one
sense,
this is pretty obvious. The alternative to hope is despair,
hopelessness.
To lose hope is to lose all motivation. It’s like giving up. Some
people
say, “ Don’t get your hopes up, you’ll just be disappointed.” But
despair
is worse than disappointment. Giving up hope is like giving up
life. It
is equally true that where there is hope, there is life.
Furthermore,
people without hope are very dangerous—to themselves and others.
Terrible
things are done by people who are hopeless, who have nothing to
live for.
Those who lose hope are prime candidates to become criminals and
terrorists, because they have nothing to lose.
Hope matters in a positive sense, because it is such a powerful
engine
for good. Reinhold Niehbuhr said, “There can be no human action
for good
that is not rooted in hope.” Hope is not passive; it’s active.
Hope is a
spring for action. Hope literally keeps us alive. Hope goes
beyond the
survival instinct. Hope aims not just to keep breathing, but to
truly
live, to make a difference. Henri Nouwen tells the story of a
German
P.O.W. after World War II. He was captured on the Russian front
and led
deeper and deeper into the gulag, camp after cam. He watched his
comrades lose hope and die, literally of despair. After more than
a
year, when he was about to give up on himself, a letter arrived.
A
letter mailed more than a year before. A letter from his wife,
who was
thrilled to hear he had survived the war. Enclosed was a picture
of
their young daughter. Nothing had changed in his circumstances,
but now
he had hope. He not only survived, he lived to be reunited with
his
family. He was saved by Hope. Hope does make a difference, not
just for
each of us as individuals, but for communities and for the whole
world.
As Christians, we are called to cultivate hope (Paul, in Romans
5). And,
we are called to be agents of hope-to be a light shining in the
darkness,
to bring hope to the hopeless.
Yesterday, I attended a memorial service for one of God’s saints,
and
Apostle of Hope, Pastor David Nelson. He served Bethel Lutheran
Church on
the west side of Chicago for 35 years. Some of you already know a
little
about Bethel because of our tradition of providing Christmas
baskets.
Let me tell you a little more. West Garfield Park is not a beauty
spot.
You won’t find it on any list of attractions for the City of
Chicago.
It’s not part of the mayor’s plan to make Chicago a world-class
city.
It’s a poor, run-down neighborhood, plagued with high
unemployment, high
crime and low standard of living. It has all the familiar urban
problems:
drugs, gangs, abandoned buildings, high drop-out rate, high
percentage
of children born out of wedlock.
David Nelson arrived in that community back in 1965, only days
after it
had experienced the first race riot of the sixties. There were
National
Guardsmen on patrol. David tells of watching an armored car drive
right
by the church his first Sunday. On that first Sunday, he looked
out on a
congregation of 35 white members-the remnant of what had been a
white,
working class neighborhood. Most of the congregation had moved
away, and
the neighborhood was changed. The only resources Pastor Nelson
had were
his faith in God and his love for God’s people. But, as it is
said,
where you find Faith and Love, Hope is not far behind. It was a
church
ready to close, as many others already had. But David didn’t come
to bury
Bethel, he came to bring it to life. He came with a vision, a
vision of
abundant life for the people of a community who had little reason
to be
hopeful. He dared to dream a big dream, a dream of a congregation
alive
and vibrant in the Spirit, a dream of a community where people
lived with
dignity and respect-instead of being written off as worthless and
unimportant.
David’s sister, Mary, worked with him side by side from the
beginning,
and she said of her brother, “Through his ministry, he was able
to make
the church a beacon of hope.” And it wasn’t just a lot of talk.
Remember,
hope leads to action. And under his leadership, Bethel became
very
active. Time doesn’t allow me to tell all that was accomplished,
but
consider a few highlights. A congregation that grew to 600, with
a
50-voice choir. Bethel Christian School. Bethel New Life, a
community
development agency that, among other things, established 1,000
units of
new or rebuilt housing, has placed 5,000 people in jobs, provides
in home
service for 600 seniors, built a community youth center and a
health
clinic. It’s amazing to ponder what one congregation has
accomplished!
This is not to say that West Garfield Park has become a paradise.
It’s
still a pretty tough neighborhood. Right now, there is a gang war
going
on for control of the drug trade. Recently, a choir director at
another
church was shot leaving church after rehearsal. In West Garfield
Park,
there are still plenty of sources for misery and despair. But I
was at
Bethel yesterday, and the church was packed. And I can assure
you, Hope
Is Alive! Pastor Nelson has dies, but hope is alive. At the
service,
several people recalled that David was fond of saying, “You ain’t
seen
nothing yet!” And that spirit lives on. It lives because Christ
is alive
and at work in that community, and Christ is our hope.
And Hope has made a difference. You can tell it with some of the
facts
and figures I’ve shared. Or, you can tell it one story at a time
in a
long list of changed lives. We could speak of kids born into that
dead-end environment who learned hope at Bethel Church and Bethel
School,
who grew strong in hope singing in the Bethel Choir and living in
a home
built by Bethel New Life. Kids who have grown up to be teachers
and
doctors and attorneys. People who are now agents of hope for
others.
And it all began when it seemed there was no reason to hope. When
one
pastor and one small congregation dared to open their hearts and
lives to
EXTRAVAGANT HOPE. St. Augustine once wrote, “Hope has two
beautiful
daughters, Anger and Courage. Righteous anger at the way things
are, at
inhumanity, injustice, indifference. Courage to see to it that
things do
not remain the way they are, courage to imagine abundant life, to
do
justice, to love kindness, to walk humbly with God.” Hope has
made a
world of difference in that one community, and it continues to
make a
difference.
You and I need hope every bit as much as the people living in
West
Garfield Park. Maybe we don’t have to worry about housing or food
on the
table or affording Christmas gifts. Our schools are great, and we
don’t
have to worry about getting shot when we’re walking out of
church.
Nevertheless, we need hope just as much as the folks at Bethel,
in fact,
we need the same kind of hope. Our real hope is not founded on
our
talents, resources, education, connections, good intentions, or
good
fortune. Our hope is Jesus Christ, in whom all thing are
possible.
Because our hope is in Jesus, we can dream big dreams,
extravagant
dreams, Advent dreams. The scripture readings for Advent overflow
with
extravagant hope: the hope of swords being turned into
plowshares; the
hope of nation no longer lifting up sword against nation; the
hope of
peace coming to Jerusalem; the hope of laying aside the works of
darkness
and putting on the armor of light; the hope of Christ-not only
lying as a
baby in a manger, but returning in power and glory, making all
things new
us included!
Extravagant Hope. Hope that makes a difference. Hope that changes
lives.
The kind of hope we’re going to sing about in just a moment:
“Rejoice, rejoice, take heart in the night,
though dark the winter and cheerless.
The rising sun will crown you with light,
Be strong, and loving and fearless.
Love be our song and love our prayer
And love our endless story;
May God fill every day we share
And bring us at last into glory.
That’s a hope worth having!
That’s a hope worth having!
More about hope next week.
Amen
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