I hope we have a white Christmas. I hope the Canadiens get to the playoffs. I hope they don’t play that song again I hope there’s desert left – I hope I can get a flight…I hope I don’t get a ticket…I hope the Doctor has good news…I hope I have enough time. Hope is an ever-present and very flexible thing. We use hope to cover a wide variety of emotional situations, from the mundane to the most precious. And hope is at the very foundation of our faith.

We heard last week that Jesus proclaimed the kingdom of God was in our midst – here among us. And for as long as Christians have been gathering, we have been praying ‘in hope’ that ‘thy kingdom come.’ We are firm in our hope in spite of Jesus’ suggestion that our waiting is over. So what does hope look like for God’s people in this day and age? Are we so firmly fixed on hope for a distant future that we have no hope left that God is at work?

Jeremiah is aimed at people who had lost all hope. The capital has been overrun –enemy has become overlord – and Israel’s leaders are to blame. The kings of Israel have turned their backs on God’s promise. Jeremiah interprets the difficult times as a well-deserved punishment from God. But gradually, the prophet reminds the people that hope is their best weapon against despair, because hope recalls the enduring promise of God. A righteous branch will spring up. The stale, selfishness of the powerful will give way to that glorious hope of the divine ‘what if…’ What if justice and righteousness ruled the day? What if there were abundance in place of desolation? What if God saves us?

And that is what hope looks like.

Though we are hardly in exile – neither are we the subjects of an oppressive regime – we do know something of the stale selfishness of the powerful. We know that the gap between the rich and the rest grows wider with every Black Friday sale. We know that there are those who will ignore the climate crisis because it will affect their bottom line. We know that resistance to equality and the failure to recognize the humanity of anyone who looks, sounds or thinks differently is bringing nothing but misery to our communities. And from the midst of our selfish, consumerist, rage-ridden culture, we dare to hold out hope.

Followers of Jesus – of every class and every persuasion – cry out for justice and work hard for peace. And the best time to see that is in Advent – when the church prepares the world for the celebration of Christmas. When carols rise up to counter the noise of cash registers. When the anticipation of what is to come – the lights, the sounds, the food, the gatherings – brings a lightness to our mood and smiles to our faces.

For me, hope is the present in the reaction when I shovel my neighbours driveway or when I have a conversation with a teenage hocky player who wished me Merry Christmas. Hope is in the snow that makes the hibernating landscape of November look beautiful and peaceful. Hope is equally present in the freedom you have to complain about the snow.

This hope of ours is drawn from an ancient source – from the promise of God, who vows that love and justice will prevail. That promise has long moved people to work for justice and live in love, but Jesus is part of that ancient promise too. Jesus – whose birth and life we celebrate – whose death and resurrection renew our hope in God’s perpetual promise. Our Sacrament this morning gives us a chance to link the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus to words and actions of our own – to take Jesus into us, and consider what it means to be disciples of the one who serves as our best example of the divine ‘what if?’

He asks – ‘What if you dared to love your neighbour as you love yourself?’ ‘What if you lived like the kingdom has already come?’ ‘What if we worked as hard for justice as we do for personal freedom?’ ‘What if you lived for goodness rather than gain?’

These are questions that seem to have little to do with heaven as a prize for the winner, and everything to do with bringing the kingdom of God to birth in the here and now. But in the answers to Jesus’ ‘what if’ questions, we will find our hope satisfied – our prayers answered.