On the second Sunday of Advent, a member of our congregation—Dr. Arthur Holmes, former professor of philosophy at Wheaton College—spoke on Matthew 3:1–12: John's preaching about the coming Kingdom. Dr. Holmes spent most of his time exploring what the Jews would have felt when they heard the phrase, "the kingdom of heaven is near." He explained their expectations, their preconceptions, and—most importantly—their hope. Hope was his theme: Israel's hope for Shalom. They didn't only want political sovereignty and religious freedom; they longed for the days Isaiah prophesied, when all debts would be canceled; when each person would stand as an equal before God and one another; when the poor would receive the justice they deserved. He reminded us that although Israel's experience might have convinced them that peace was a myth and justice a farce, when they heard John announce the presence of the Kingdom, they were filled with hope.

Hope. He said that word again and again with hushed intensity. That is, it wasn't just his words, but the fact that every one of those words seemed to well up from deep inside him that gave such weight to his message. It was clear as I listened that the Word had done its work in him and we were witnessing the result of that transformation.

It helped, too, that Dr. Holmes communicated hope in terms we could appreciate. He told us about the night he heard World War II ended: he was in his barrack on an island in the Atlantic. Most of the soldiers hit the bars; he and a couple others thumbed through the Scriptures and found Isaiah's words: "They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore." That night was the first in years, he said, that he believed justice would ever reign on earth.

Hope.

There was hope at the close of that war. But now years later, we too might wonder if justice and righteousness will ever guide men's hearts. Yes, it will. Because at Christmas we remember that Jesus is "God with us." He entered our horror and brought hope with him; he left us with hope when he returned home.

Dr. Holmes' final words were, "Merry Christmas." Those words fell like a bag of rocks in my lap, because they reminded me that Christmas is not simply the end of the Advent season. It is a time when we're reminded that, like Israel, we still await the hope of the Kingdom and the reign of our coming King.

Merry Christmas.