The Risk of Hope
Hope is a funny thing. It’s often painted as soft and easy, but if we’re honest, hope can feel like one of the riskiest things we do. For anyone who has experienced loss or disappointment, hope can feel downright dangerous. What if it doesn’t work out? What if we’re let down again? Sometimes, it feels safer to guard our hearts and keep our expectations low.
But the stories of Mary and Joseph in this week’s scriptures challenge us to see hope differently. Their hope wasn’t flimsy or naive—it was resilient, risky, and bold. It’s the kind of hope that chooses to believe in what God is doing, even when it feels uncertain. It’s the kind of hope that takes action, even when it feels easier to do nothing.
Mary’s Risky Hope
In Luke 1:46-55, Mary responds to the angel’s announcement with what we now call the Magnificat—a song of joy and praise. But let’s not romanticize this moment. Mary was a young woman, probably a teenager, in a society that had little room for unmarried pregnant women. Her “yes” to God wasn’t just a spiritual decision; it was a social risk. She was risking her reputation, her relationships, and even her life.
Mary’s hope wasn’t passive. She didn’t simply wish for things to work out; she acted on her trust in God. She believed that the child she carried would fulfill God’s promises and bring hope to her people. Her faith didn’t erase her fears, but it gave her the courage to move forward anyway. That’s the kind of hope we’re called to embody—not a hope that denies reality, but one that trusts God enough to take a step forward, even when the outcome isn’t guaranteed.
Joseph’s Courageous Choice
In Matthew 1:18-25, we see Joseph faced with his own risky decision. When he learns that Mary is pregnant, he plans to quietly end their engagement. By doing so, he could avoid scandal and protect his own reputation. But then an angel visits him in a dream and tells him to stay with Mary, to name the child Jesus, and to trust that this extraordinary situation is part of God’s plan.
Joseph could have walked away. He had every reason to take the safer, simpler route. But instead, he chooses hope. He chooses to believe in the angel’s message and in what God is doing through Mary. That choice changed everything—not just for him, but for the entire world. His decision reminds us that hope isn’t just a feeling; it’s a choice. It’s a decision to believe in the possibility of God’s work, even when it’s messy or inconvenient.
Hope as a Spiritual Practice
Hope gets a bad rap sometimes. It’s easy to dismiss it as wishful thinking or something for people who haven’t lived through hard times. But what if hope isn’t about ignoring reality or brushing off pain? What if hope is a spiritual discipline—a muscle we can strengthen through practice?
For some of us, hope feels hard because we’ve been hurt. Maybe we’ve been disappointed so many times that it feels safer to keep our guard up. For others, the weight of the world—violence, oppression, injustice—makes hope feel naive or even impossible. But Mary and Joseph remind us that hope isn’t about pretending everything is fine. It’s about trusting in God’s ability to work through us, even in the messiest, most uncertain moments.
When hope feels out of reach, we can lean on the hope of others. Maybe you’re carrying a heavy burden this season, and you don’t have the energy to hope right now. That’s okay. As a community, we can hold hope for one another. Our collective expressions of hope—through acts of kindness, words of encouragement, or simply showing up—can be a lifeline for those who are weary.
Becoming Hope-Bearers
In a world that often rewards cynicism and pessimism, choosing hope is a radical act. It’s easier to say, “Nothing will ever change” or “Why bother?” But the world doesn’t need more cynics. It needs people who say, “It can be better,” and then take steps to make it so.
As we prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus, we are reminded that hope is at the heart of the Christmas story. Mary and Joseph’s hope brought Jesus into the world—the hope of all humanity. Now it’s our turn to carry that hope forward.
This week, let’s ask ourselves: Where is God calling us to take a risk for hope? Maybe it’s reaching out to someone who feels forgotten. Maybe it’s advocating for justice or standing up for what’s right, even when it’s unpopular. Maybe it’s simply letting go of cynicism and daring to believe that God is still at work in our lives and in the world.
Hope isn’t easy. It’s vulnerable and risky, and it asks something of us. But it’s also powerful. When we practice hope—when we trust God and take action—we become part of the story God is still writing. This Advent, let’s choose hope. Let’s carry it into the world, not just for ourselves but for those who need it most.
After all, hope doesn’t just change us—it changes the world.
