Advent is a time of waiting—of living in the in-between. It’s that sacred tension between what is and what we long for, between the brokenness of the world and the wholeness promised in Christ. It’s a season that asks us to live with open eyes and honest hearts, to name the pain of the present while clinging fiercely to hope.
And let’s be honest—there’s so much pain to name. Creation itself is groaning: oceans rise, forests burn, the skies choke on smoke, and the creatures of God’s earth vanish. Human hearts are groaning too. Wars rage in places like Ukraine and Gaza, tearing apart lives and leaving scars on the land and the soul. Families are driven from their homes; children are caught in the crossfire of power and hatred. These places of suffering are not far-off—they are bound to us, their cries echoing in the heart of God.
It’s tempting to look away, to numb ourselves, to drown out the groaning with distraction or denial. But Advent won’t let us. Advent calls us to see, to feel, to name what is broken. This is a season of lament, and lament is holy work. It’s an act of faith to bring the world’s pain to God, trusting that God hears, God sees, and God will act.
But lament doesn’t stand alone—it walks hand in hand with hope. Because in this season, we don’t just cry out, ‘Come, Lord Jesus.’ We light candles, we sing songs, and we remember that He ‘is’ coming. The same God who entered our world as a fragile child in Bethlehem is coming again to set all things right.
This is the hope that holds us steady. Jesus is the Light of the World, shining in the darkness. He is the Bread of Life, satisfying the deepest hunger of our hearts. He is the Blessed Peacemaker, the Prince of Peace, who will one day turn swords into plowshares and tears into joy.
And so, we wait. Not passively, not despairingly, but actively. In our waiting, we resist despair and lean into the promises of God. We care for creation even as we see it groaning. We work for justice even when the road feels long. We make peace wherever we can, knowing that every act of faithfulness points to the Kingdom we long for.
The prayer we are about to say together captures this Advent tension. It’s a prayer of lament and hope, of longing and trust. It gives voice to the anguish of a groaning world—to places and people which suffer—but it also calls us to trust in the God who hears.
So as we pray, let’s bring the weight of our hearts to God—the fears, the questions, the longings, and the trust. And let’s dare to believe that this waiting, this praying, this hoping—it’s not in vain.
Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus.
Father of Creation, God of Hope,
The prophets speak,
And dream and hope
For a different world,
The age to come.
Maranatha.
Father of Creation,
God of Hope.
We dwell in great darkness,
The joy in our hearts has ceased.
Our garments are rolled in the blood of ecological and human violence.
The earth cries out;
Nations rage against one another.
The innocent suffer beneath the shadow of war and destruction.
Lord, have mercy.
Maranatha.
Father of Creation,
God of Justice,
The yoke of unrestrained greed and exploitation
Is placed upon the necks of the poor and oppressed.
Consumerism delights and shares the spoils,
While weapons of war scatter children and families.
Land, sea, and sky bear the scars of human pride;
Communities are torn by hatred and fear.
Lord, have mercy.
Maranatha.
And yet we wait, knowing that once You
Heard,
Saw,
And responded to the cries of your people.
On that day, a child was born.
Wonderful Counsellor,
To Him be all praise and glory.
Mighty God,
To Him be all praise and glory.
Everlasting Father,
To Him be all praise and glory.
Prince of Peace.
To Him be all praise and glory.
He dreamed a dream of a different Kingdom
And showed us what it looks like.
In a world of darkness,
He is the world’s True Light.
In a world of spiritual hunger,
He is the Bread of Life.
In a world of violence,
He is the Blessed Peacemaker.
To Him be all praise and glory.
And so now we wait,
In the storm of climate breakdown,
Hungry, scared, in darkness.
In the midst of war and bloodshed,
Exiled, displaced, in anguish.
And we pray for the advent,
The arrival,
Of the Bread, the Light, and the Blessed Peacemaker.
Maranatha, Come, Lord Jesus.
Father of Creation,
God of Hope,
Whilst we wait,
And sea levels rise,
Grant us strength to face the day.
Whilst we wait,
And wars rage,
Grant us peace to resist despair.
Father of Creation,
God of Justice,
Whilst we wait,
And temperatures rise,
Grant us wisdom to discern how we should live.
Whilst we wait,
And swords are raised,
Grant us courage to lay down arms and seek peace.
Father of Creation,
God of Hope,
Whilst we wait,
Grant us the courage to pledge allegiance to the world’s true light.
Grant us the courage to resist the beasts that destroy the world.
Grant us the courage to articulate, imagine, and embody
The Kingdom of Your Son.
Let the present moment of our existential threat,
The devastation of creation, and the cries of war,
Point to the presence and person of Your Son, Jesus.
Maranatha, Come, Lord Jesus.
Father of Creation, God of Hope,
The church proclaims,
And dreams and hopes
For a different world,
The age to come.
Maranatha, Come, Lord Jesus.
Amen.
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