Bishop Justin Duckworth

I was on a road trip the other day with two of my daughters. As we drove up the country, my youngest mentioned she had been thinking about the things that give us hope on a global scale as part of a work project.

“Why don’t we hive-mind it together?” she said. Cue several miles of deafening silence. 

Truth be told, apart from the odd fact about sports teams or native birds (all good things in themselves) it was hard to come up with anything on a major scale that we felt particularly hopeful about.

December in many church calendars is traditionally associated with the theme of hope. At this time, we read the story of Mary receiving the promise of the birth of Jesus, the hoped-for Saviour, and hear for the first time one of the names he is to be given: Emmanuel, meaning ‘God with us'.

In Christian tradition we call this idea of God with us the ‘incarnation’ – like ‘carne’, meaning meat or flesh. God becoming human.

As we found in the car, this season seems to be one where we are looking for answers to a raft of local and global challenges and it can be hard to see hope.

Where is justice for the people of Palestine, or the Hamas hostages? Where is justice for the vulnerable in the face of climate destruction? Where is justice in the greed of global leaders who seek their own advantage?

These challenges and many others are our present reality, and don’t on the face of them provide much opportunity to really feel hopeful.

I think that’s why these words from Martin Luther King Jr in 1968 have proven so poignant, so many decades on: “We shall overcome because the arc of the moral universe is long – but it bends toward justice.”

Although at this moment it would be churlish to suggest it doesn’t feel particularly challenging, we can see over the last 2000 years – with many highs and many deep troughs – human history has moved us to a place of greater justice and greater compassion.

The story of faith has always been one embedded in difficult and desperate situations and in the face of oppression and empire – whether that’s Egypt, Assyria, Greeks, or Romans – yet in the end, the seed of love always continues. Seeing that God seems to be present to work again and again across history is something we can hold onto in the face of overwhelming challenges.

Reflecting on this, I recalled something a priest in my area who has recently been having a particularly hard time told me: “I have suffered with Jesus and without Jesus: I can tell you which one’s better.”

We get the choice about how we go through tough seasons. The choice is to believe that God is with us and seeking to redeem and transform human history globally and locally.

This is why I’m glad I follow Jesus – God with us – because, through Him, I find that these tough seasons have the potential to be transformed.

Transformed, not necessarily from negative experiences into positive ones – that would be too simplistic – but from hopeless experiences into hopeful ones.

And they’re hopeful because God is with us. He is the one who draws close to us in our pain, understanding our lived reality, because He too has lived it.  

This Christmas, as we celebrate Jesus’s arrival in the world, we acknowledge His promise to bring transformation to all people – a promise that still stands to this day.

I’d like to finish with something practical. As you gather in your places of worship this season, I particularly you to consider one place in our world which particularly needs to know the hope of God: the ongoing conflict in Israel and Palestine. I hear from our friends at Anglican Missions that aid continues to get through where it is needed and so if you are able, I encourage you to contribute to the Hope for the Holy Land appeal. In this season when we remember Jesus our Saviour fleeing violence and oppression we can look at this situation and feel hopeless, but this is one way that we can partner with God to bring hope-filled support.  

May each one of you know the blessing of the God of hope filling your hearts and homes this season.

+Justin