Advent Week 1 - Hope

Dec 2

Entering Anamnesis

This Advent, we are journeying with the Greek word anamnesis. This is an ancient word that means “remembrance.” It’s the opposite of amnesia, which means “to forget.” It also has a rich part to play in the history of the Church. In the worship and imagination of the Church, remembrance is never flat or distant. To remember in Christ is to be drawn into God’s living story. Anamnesis invites us to enter the events of salvation so deeply that they shape us as if we were there. It recognizes that even though we know the outcome, we enter the story as if we get to participate again.

As we begin Advent, we take our place among the prophets and the people of Israel, still waiting, still aching for God to come. Their prayers and promises rise up around us like our own. To practice anamnesis is to sit with them on the edge of hope, listening for the footsteps of the King who is near.

This first week, we allow that sense of holy longing to form us. We confess that our lives, our city, our world are not as they should be. We watch for the One who has come and who will come again, learning to wait with a hope that stays awake.

Scripture Readings (NLT)

Isaiah 9:2–7

The people who walk in darkness will see a great light.

For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine.

You will enlarge the nation of Israel, and its people will rejoice.

They will rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest and like warriors dividing the plunder.

For you will break the yoke of their slavery and lift the heavy burden from their shoulders.

You will break the oppressor’s rod, just as you did when you destroyed the army of Midian.

The boots of the warrior and the uniforms bloodstained by war will all be burned. They will be fuel for the fire.

For a child is born to us, a son is given to us.

The government will rest on his shoulders.

And he will be called: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

His government and its peace will never end.

He will rule with fairness and justice from the throne of his ancestor David for all eternity.

The passionate commitment of the Lord of Heaven’s Armies will make this happen!

Psalm 130:5–6

I am counting on the Lord; yes, I am counting on him.

I have put my hope in his word.

I long for the Lord more than sentries long for the dawn, yes, more than sentries long for the dawn.

Romans 13:11–12

This is all the more urgent, for you know how late it is; time is running out. Wake up, for our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is almost gone; the day of salvation will soon be here. So remove your dark deeds like dirty clothes, and put on the shining armor of right living.

Mark 13:33–37

And since you don’t know when that time will come, be on guard! Stay alert! The coming of the Son of Man can be illustrated by the story of a man going on a long trip. When he left home, he gave each of his slaves instructions about the work they were to do, and he told the gatekeeper to watch for his return. You, too, must keep watch! For you don’t know when the master of the household will return—in the evening, at midnight, before dawn, or at daybreak. Don’t let him find you sleeping when he arrives without warning. I say to you what I say to everyone: Watch for him!

Reflect

Hope is the beginning of Advent. It is the courage to stay awake when the night feels long. It is the trust that God is faithful, even when fulfillment seems delayed. When Isaiah declares, “The people walking in darkness will see a great light,” the English translation presents future hope. Yet, in Hebrew, the verse employs what scholars call the “prophetic perfect,” speaking of a future event as though it has already occurred. This isn’t poetic license so much as confidence: the promise is so certain that the prophet can speak of it as though light has already dawned. It shows us something about how God’s Word interacts with time. It makes the future alive, already present in its power.

This is precisely the kind of remembering that anamnesis brings us into. When we read prophecies like Isaiah’s in Advent, we do more than anticipate what is to come; we enter the promise now. God’s light that Isaiah spoke of isn’t merely something for long ago or far off, it permeates our present if we allow it. To remember this way, speaking future hope in present terms, is to live in the overlap of what has been promised, what has come, and what is yet to come. In doing so, our hope becomes anchored, not in what we see, but in who God is and in His sure promises.

Advent trains us in that grammar. It teaches us to wait not with resignation but with expectation. It invites us to live as though the King could arrive at any moment. To keep watch is an embodied act: we simplify, we pray, we resist distraction, we ready our lives for His appearing. In this waiting, hope is not passive; it is active trust, bending our lives toward the One who comes.

Consider

Where does your life most feel like “walking in darkness”?
How does your hope look in practice—what habits show that you are waiting for Christ?
What keeps you from staying awake to God’s presence in daily life?

Prayer Prompts

Wake me, Lord: Pray Romans 13:11–12. Ask God to awaken you where you’ve been asleep.
Name your longing: Tell God plainly where you most need His light to come.
Watch in silence: Set a timer for two minutes. Breathe slowly and pray, “Come, Lord Jesus.”
Receive hope: Pray Psalm 130:5–6 aloud, pausing after each phrase.

Communal Intercession:

Lord, teach our network to wait well. Give us sturdy hope that does not collapse under delay. Make our microchurches attentive to Your quiet arrivals in ordinary places. Keep us awake to Your coming in neighbors, in relationships, in meals, in the margins
of our city.