Lately, I can’t get my favorite Christmas song out of my head. I sing it loud in the shower. I find myself almost subconsciously humming it as I go about my day. And when I hear of friends who are hurting, I sigh and breathe out the words of Oh Holy Night, especially the last lines of the verse, as a prayer.

A thrill of hope…the weary world rejoices…

And on this Christmas Eve, after an unusual Advent marked more by quarantines than carols, we need this hope more than ever.

While I am happy to enter into the merry-making of Christmas, I have to acknowledge that I am bone weary. The undercurrent of anxiety sparked by the ever-present Covid narrative makes me feel like my sluggish laptop that stalls when running too many simultaneous programs. I’m not only depleted but perplexed at my own exhaustion. I am plain worn out.

Can you relate? I can’t think of a time when our world has ever felt so burdened. I have a permanent lump in my throat as I think of so many who are grappling with brokenness. It’s been a year of multiple blows, when it feels like we’ve been limping for so long that we’ve grown accustomed and simply adjusted our gait.

So…a fresh dose of hope and joy?  Yes please. 

But what exactly is this thrill of hope we sing about, in which the weary world will rejoice?

Simply put — It’s Jesus.  It’s God with skin on. God who gets us. God who is by our side and on our side, no matter what.  Whose presence invites us into a lifeboat of calm in the stormy seas of chaos.  He’s God who infiltrates our world, meets us in the struggle and promises to repurpose even the most devastating pain for good. He’s the bedrock when the bottom has fallen out. 

This thrill of hope assures us that there is more to life than all this hard stuff.

Hope is what Advent is all about.  More than a treat-filled calendar with windows that count down the days to Christmas, it’s a season of waiting in hope.

Advent means “coming” in Latin.  And when the world rushes ahead from Halloween to Christmas morning, it’s a speed bump that lets us catch our breath.  Even though it’s looked different this year, it has offered a welcomed pause in life’s unrelenting challenges. It’s created space to savor the meaning of Christ’s first coming at Christmas and made room to yearn for His next coming.

In some ways Advent can feel like an awkward, in-between time. It’s even a little odd – waiting to celebrate something that’s already happened so that we can anticipate something not yet fulfilled. In Advent, we see more clearly that we live in a time of the Already and the Not Yet.

The “Already” of Advent reminds us that on the first Christmas morning, God of the manger, the cross and the empty tomb came for us. Jesus, called “Immanuel, God with us” offers us a “with-Christ” life. His initial arrival opened the door to His Kingdom, beckoning us into His extravagant, intimate, mind-blowing, other-worldly love.  

It’s in the “Not Yet” of Advent when we grip with white knuckles the promise of His next coming. And here at the end of a long, hard 2020, we cling with extra urgency to the reality that the end of our story has already been written. Jesus is coming back for us.  Our Deliverer will gallop in like a hero on a white horse to right every wrong, and put an end to pain and death. No more disease, mourning or suffering. When God himself will literally wipe away our tears as He puts an end to crying forever.

So in our weariness, no matter how heavy-hearted, helpless or hopeless we may feel, we can drink deep of the presence of God with Us. And know we aren’t alone.   

A thrill of hope…the weary world rejoices for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

So tomorrow morning, when Christmas finally arrives, we’ll revel alongside the shepherds at the angels’ Good News symphony, “peace on earth, goodwill to men.” 

We’ll gaze in wonder with the wise men at Bethlehem’s Bright Morning Star swaddled in a feed trough. The very Son of God ushering in his Kingdom and his New Covenant.  

We’ll look to the manger that sits in the shadow of the cross.

We’ll rest in knowing that God is both already here and coming back.

And we’ll be thrilled by the hope of His truly Good News.