Waiting in the Dark: Advent and the God Who Comes

An Advent Meditation

There's something wonderfully subversive about Advent. Here we are in the Western world, being told by every shop window and advertisement that Christmas has already arrived—that the party is in full swing, the presents must be bought, the turkey ordered, the festivities planned. And yet the church, in her ancient wisdom, says: "Wait. Not yet. We are still in the darkness, still in the longing, still in the hope."

This is Advent.

The word itself comes from the Latin adventus, meaning "coming" or "arrival." It marks the beginning of the Christian liturgical year, those four weeks before Christmas when the church traditionally prepares her heart for the celebration of Christ's first coming and directs her hope toward his promised return. Though many Baptist congregations have historically focused less on the liturgical calendar than our Anglican, Catholic, or Orthodox brothers and sisters, there is profound biblical wisdom in setting aside this season of intentional waiting.

Advent emerged in the fourth and fifth centuries, developing alongside the church's growing understanding that the Christian life is fundamentally shaped by story—God's story of creation, fall, promise, and redemption. By the sixth century, the season had crystallized into roughly its present form: four Sundays of preparation, each traditionally associated with a theme drawn from Scripture's great promises. These themes—Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love—are not mere sentiments but theological realities rooted in the character of the God who has come, is coming, and will come again.

For those of us in the Baptist tradition, with our emphasis on the authority of Scripture and the necessity of personal faith, Advent offers something vital: a structured way to immerse ourselves in the biblical narrative of God's promises and their fulfillment in Jesus. It invites us to resist the culture's demand for instant gratification and instead to embrace the posture of Israel—waiting, watching, longing for the Lord who comes to save.

The First Week: Hope

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11, ESV)

Hope is not optimism. Optimism is a temperament, a personality trait, perhaps even a refusal to face hard realities. Hope, in the biblical sense, is something altogether different. It is the confident expectation that God will do what God has promised to do. It is the conviction, born not of wishful thinking but of covenant faithfulness, that the God who spoke worlds into existence and called Abraham out of Ur will complete what he has begun.

The people of Israel knew something about waiting in hope. They waited through four hundred silent years between Malachi and Matthew, years when heaven seemed shut, when no prophet spoke, when the nations raged and oppressed and the faithful could only cling to ancient promises. "How long, O Lord?" became not just a prayer but a way of life.

And yet they hoped. They hoped because they remembered: God had delivered them from Egypt, had brought them through the wilderness, had raised up judges and kings and prophets. God had spoken through Isaiah of a servant who would bear their griefs, through Micah of a ruler from Bethlehem, through Jeremiah of a new covenant written on hearts of flesh. The promises were there, woven through their Scriptures like golden threads. The question was not whether God would act, but when.

This is the hope Advent calls us to embrace: not vague religious feelings, but the rock-solid certainty that in the fullness of time, God sent forth his Son. The incarnation is the great "Yes!" to every promise God ever made. In Jesus, heaven has touched earth, eternity has invaded time, and the future kingdom has broken into the present age. We light the first candle of Advent and remember: our hope is not in ourselves, not in political movements or social progress or human ingenuity. Our hope is in the God who came, who comes, and who will come again to make all things new.

"For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ." (Romans 15:4-6, ESV)

Reflection Question: Where in your life are you tempted to abandon hope? How might remembering God's faithfulness in the past strengthen your confidence in his promises for the future?

Prayer Prompt: Ask God to renew your hope in Christ's return and to help you live today in light of the kingdom that is breaking into our world.

The Second Week: Peace

"For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." (Isaiah 9:6, ESV)

The Romans had a word for peace: ‘Pax’ as in Pax Romana, the "Roman Peace" enforced through military might, political domination, and the iron-fisted rule of Caesar. It was a peace built on violence, maintained through threat, sustained by the fear of crucifixion for those who dared disturb it.

Into this world came another King, announcing another kind of peace. Not the peace of the sword but the peace of the cross. Not the peace imposed from without but the peace that passes understanding, the peace that comes from being reconciled to God through the blood of his Son.

The biblical concept of shalom is far richer than our English "peace." It encompasses wholeness, completeness, flourishing, the restoration of all things to their proper order. It is the peace of Eden, when God walked with humanity in the cool of the day. It is the peace of the new creation, when the dwelling place of God will be with humanity, and he will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

But such peace cannot be achieved through human effort, through political negotiation or social engineering. The rift between God and humanity is too deep, the fracture too profound. Sin has not merely wounded us; it has enslaved us, putting us at enmity with our Creator and with one another. The peace we need is the peace that only God can make—the peace accomplished when the Prince of Peace stretched out his arms on a Roman cross and declared, "It is finished."

This is the scandal and the glory of the gospel: that peace came through apparent defeat, that victory was won through surrender, that life broke forth from death. The baby in the manger grew to be the man on the cross, and in his dying he destroyed death itself and opened the way for us to return to God. We light the second candle of Advent and remember: we are no longer enemies but friends, no longer strangers but fellow citizens with the saints, no longer orphans but beloved children of the Father.

"Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God." (Romans 5:1-2, ESV)

Reflection Question: Are you living in the peace that Christ has secured, or are you still striving to earn God's acceptance? Where might God be calling you to be a peacemaker in a divided world?

Prayer Prompt: Thank God for the peace he has made through Christ's sacrifice, and ask him to make you an instrument of his peace in your family, church, and community.

The Third Week: Joy

"The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing."(Zephaniah 3:17, ESV)

Joy is not happiness. Happiness depends on happenings, on circumstances, on whether life is going our way at the moment. Joy runs deeper. Joy is the settled conviction, even in the midst of sorrow and suffering, that all shall be well because God is on the throne and his purposes cannot be thwarted.

The prophet Zephaniah gives us one of the most extraordinary images in all of Scripture: God himself singing over his people with joy. Can you imagine it? The Creator of galaxies, the sustainer of atoms, the King of kings and Lord of lords—dancing and singing with delight over you. Not because you've earned it. Not because you're particularly impressive. But simply because he loves you, because you are his, because he has set his affection upon you from before the foundation of the world.

This is the joy that Mary knew when the angel appeared to her in Nazareth. "Rejoice, O favored one," Gabriel declared. And though she was terrified, though she didn't understand, though accepting this calling would bring her suffering and scandal, she responded with a song: "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior." Mary's joy was not rooted in her circumstances—which were about to become very complicated indeed—but in the character of God, who was doing something unprecedented and wonderful in her.

The gospel is not good advice but good news. It is the announcement that God has acted decisively in history to accomplish what we could never accomplish for ourselves. We don't make joy; we receive it. We don't manufacture it through positive thinking or religious effort; we discover it as a gift when we realize what God has done for us in Christ.

We light the third candle of Advent and remember: the angel's message to the shepherds was not "Try harder to be good" or "Make better choices this year." It was "Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord." The joy of Advent is the joy of salvation accomplished, victory won, death defeated, and humanity restored.

"Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls." (1 Peter 1:8-9, ESV)

Reflection Question: What robs you of joy most easily—circumstances, comparisons, anxieties about the future? How might deeper meditation on God's character restore joy to your soul?

Prayer Prompt: Ask God to fill you with the inexpressible joy that comes from knowing Christ, and to help you share that joy with others who are struggling.

The Fourth Week: Love

"The LORD appeared to him from far away. I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you." (Jeremiah 31:3, ESV)

Here we arrive at the heart of it all. Hope, peace, and joy all flow from this single reality: God is love, and he has loved us with an everlasting love. This is not sentiment. This is not divine favoritism or celestial affection. This is the fierce, covenant-keeping, mountain-moving love that sent the Son from heaven to earth, from the throne to the manger, from glory to the cross.

We trivialize love in our culture, reducing it to an emotion or a fleeting attraction. But agape—the love God has for us and calls us to have for one another—is something far more substantial. It is the deliberate, costly commitment to seek another's highest good regardless of how we feel at the moment. It is love that acts, love that sacrifices, love that endures.

The incarnation is the supreme demonstration of this love. "God so loved the world," John tells us, "that he gave his only Son" (John 3:16). The eternal Word, through whom all things were made, took on human flesh and entered into the mess and muddle of our existence. He who knew no sin became sin for us. He who was rich became poor, that through his poverty we might become rich. He who was immortal tasted death, that through his death we might have life.

This is what we celebrate at Christmas, though we often miss it amid the wrapping paper and carols. We celebrate the God who refused to remain distant, who would not leave us to our own devices, who came himself to find us and bring us home. We celebrate the love that will not let us go, the love that pursues us into the far country, the love that laid down its life for friends who had become enemies.

And here's the remarkable thing: this same love that brought Christ to us at his first advent now dwells in us by his Spirit. We are called not merely to admire God's love or to be grateful for it, but to be conduits of it, channels through which it flows to a broken and hurting world. As John writes, "Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another" (1 John 4:11).

We light the fourth candle of Advent and remember: the manger leads to the cross, and the cross leads to the empty tomb, and the empty tomb leads to Pentecost, when the Spirit of the risen Christ came to make his home in us. We are loved, and so we love. It is as simple, and as revolutionary, as that.

"But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life." (Romans 5:8-10, ESV)

Reflection Question: How have you experienced God's love in Christ personally? Who in your life needs to experience that same love through your actions and words?

Prayer Prompt: Thank God for his extraordinary love demonstrated in the incarnation and crucifixion, and ask him to fill you with that same love for others, especially those who are difficult to love.

Looking Forward: Readings for Advent

As we journey through these weeks of waiting and preparation, I want to recommend three readings that have shaped Christian understanding of the incarnation across the centuries. For Baptist Christians, who rightly emphasize the authority of Scripture, these resources offer profound insights into what the Bible teaches about God becoming human.

First, immerse yourself in Isaiah 40-55. These chapters, often called "Second Isaiah" or the "Book of Consolation," were written to a people in exile, far from home, wondering if God had forgotten his promises. Into their darkness, Isaiah speaks words of stunning comfort and hope: "Comfort, comfort my people, says your God" (40:1). Here we find the Suffering Servant songs, the prophecies of one who would be wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities, by whose stripes we are healed (53:5). These chapters offer the most substantial continuous vision in the Old Testament of the Messiah's character, mission, and the universal hope he brings. Read them slowly, meditatively, and watch how they illuminate the New Testament's proclamation of Jesus.

Second, read Athanasius's On the Incarnation. Written in the fourth century, this relatively brief work deserves to be reread every Advent and every Lent. Athanasius explains with remarkable clarity why God became human: "He became man that we might become god"—not gods in essence, but partakers of the divine nature, restored to the image we were created to bear. For those unfamiliar with the church fathers, Athanasius offers an accessible entry point into the rich theological reflection of the early church. You'll discover that our Baptist emphasis on personal salvation through faith in Christ stands in continuity with the gospel the church has proclaimed from the beginning.

Third, engage with Irenaeus's apologetic writings collected in The Scandal of the Incarnation. Written in the second century against the Gnostics, who denied that Christ truly took on human flesh, these texts defend the radical Christian claim that matter matters, that the body is not a prison but part of God's good creation, and that salvation involves the redemption of the whole person—body and soul. For Irenaeus, the incarnation wasn't merely a temporary disguise God wore; it was the permanent union of divinity and humanity in the person of Christ. In our own day, when various forms of Gnosticism tempt us to spiritualize the gospel or to dismiss the importance of embodied existence, Irenaeus's insights remain urgently relevant.

Fourth, pick-up Advent for Everyone: Luke by N.T. (Tom) Wright. This book provides readers with an inspirational guide through the Advent season, from the first Sunday in Advent through the Saturday after the Fourth Sunday in Advent. Popular biblical scholar and author N. T. Wright provides his own Scripture translation and brief reflection, exploring the Gospel themes of faith, repentance, justice, and celebration. Wright's engaging reflections take you on a journey of spiritual enlightenment, guiding you toward the wonder and joy of Christmas. This book is suitable for both individual and group study and reflection.

These readings will deepen your understanding of what we celebrate at Christmas and why it matters so profoundly. They will also connect you to the great tradition of Christian reflection that stretches back to the apostles themselves—a tradition that all confessional believers, with our commitment to biblical truth, can gratefully receive and learn from.

Conclusion: The God Who Comes

Advent reminds us that Christianity is not, at its core, a philosophy or a moral system or a set of religious practices. It is the proclamation of an event—or rather, of two events: one that has happened and one that will happen. Christ has come. Christ will come again. And between these two advents, we live in the light and power of his presence by the Spirit, watching, waiting, working, and worshiping.

So resist the culture's attempt to rush you past this season of preparation. Light the candles. Read the Scriptures. Sit with the ancient promises. Let your heart expand with hope, settle into peace, overflow with joy, and be set ablaze with love. And when Christmas finally arrives, you'll be ready—not just to exchange gifts and enjoy a good meal, but to welcome with informed faith and joyful hearts the baby who is also the Lord of glory, the child who is also the King of kings.

Come, Lord Jesus. Come into our hearts, our homes, our churches, our world. Come and make all things new. We are waiting for you.

Maranatha.