Hope in Advent

It seems that every year I find myself muddling through Advent, seeking some kind of insight or ballast for my spiritual journey. Then a “Christmas story” happens which focuses my spiritual awareness. This year’s edition: Last week, I joined a few hundred folks to participate in the annual Homeless Memorial Day in Philadelphia. We remember our homeless and formerly homeless persons who passed away this year, and we recommit ourselves to working to end homelessness. A key focus of this year’s gathering was the growing number of young people experiencing homelessness. One of the speakers was a young woman. In nervous, halting words, and with aching vulnerability, she recounted a messy, painful story – a matrix of urban poverty with its toxic blend of poor education and economic scarcity; a devout Christian family that rejected her because of her sexuality; failed social systems; victimization and exploitation at the hands of men.

At one point, she described being destitute, unexpectedly pregnant, lonely, and lost, wandering the streets, with no options and little hope. Finally, with a blend of her own desperate initiative and the intervention of caring people, a path opened for her. As she stood before us, she said she had a home of her own, a great support system, and was going back to school – and then, with a sly grin, she said, “And one more thing, y’all,…” She held up a sonogram above her head in a gesture of jubilation and yelled, “IT’S GOING TO BE A BOY!”

This season of births. Isn’t every birth a kind of defiant eruption of hope? (Ask our community member Christa, who is a doula,…) Then, of course, the infant lad whose birth we remember in but a few days – also occurring like a still point of awe in the midst of social desperation and injustice.

May we find those stories where darkness yields to hope, and we can’t help being jubilant.