On this first Sunday of Advent, many Christians light the first candle on the Advent wreath. This candle symbolises hope. Throughout the week, Christians reflect on the hope of the coming of Christ – the light of the world.
We all yearn for the light. At this time of year, the Jewish celebration of Hanukkah – known as the festival of lights - commemorates the miracle of light that sustained hope against all odds. In Hinduism, Diwali, also known as the festival of lights, celebrates the triumph of light over darkness, and for earth-based traditions, the Winter Solstice marks the return of the sun as the wheel of the year turns. Across traditions, hope flickers in the darkness, guiding us forward. And I wonder: is there a correlation between how early people put up their Christmas lights and how bleak the world seems? We all wait and hope for the return of the light.
Hope is a thread woven through all spiritual and human experiences. In Judaism, hope (tikvah) is a sacred act of faith in God’s promises. In Islam, hope is nurtured through trust in Allah’s mercy. Hinduism and Buddhism teach that hope arises from cycles of renewal and liberation. And how letting go of expectations and fully embracing the present allows us to trust in the path, rather than longing for specific future outcomes. Humanists also recognise the transformative power of hope as a driving force for justice and change.
But what is real hope, and how can we cultivate it in what often feels like hopeless times?
The only hope worth exploring is one that passes a litmus test: does it resonate with those I speak to regularly who truly have their backs against the wall? The 21-year-old Ukrainian who wakes almost every morning at 3am to the sounds of air raids above her flat. The mother choosing between homelessness and staying with an abusive husband. My colleague living with advanced cancer. Sentimentality or wishful thinking won’t suffice here. Real hope must hold up under unimaginable suffering.
Edith Eger, a Holocaust survivor and author of The Choice, teaches us that hope is an act of agency and courage. During her time at Auschwitz, she embraced the mantra: "If I survive today, tomorrow I will be free." This focus helped her endure the horrors of a concentration camp. Her story reminds us that hope is a deliberate, present moment choice – even in the darkest of times.
Researcher Brené Brown, in Atlas of the Heart, writes: "We need hope like we need air. To live without hope is to risk suffocating on hopelessness and despair." Hope, she argues, is a way of thinking, not a feeling. It is forged in struggle and strengthened through adversity. And Lutheran pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber echoes this. She argues that; “Hope is not the absence of suffering but its companion. It’s the stubborn insistence that life is worth living, even in the face of hardship.”
Poetry also points us toward this resilient hope. Chelan Harkin writes:“Hope is the angel that won’t allow the darkness to devour us. It is the spark that ignites the soul when all else feels dim.”
This brings us to a deeper understanding of real hope: Hope doesn’t deny the pain but refuses to let it define us. It is an openness to possibility, as author Matt Haig explains: “Hope isn’t the same thing as happiness. You don’t need to be happy to be hopeful. You need to accept the unknowability of the future and that it holds the potential for something better than the present.” This touches on the mystery that all spiritual paths hold – an invitation to trust in something greater than ourselves.
So, How then, do we cultivate hope? Psychologist and meditation teacher Tara Brach suggests that hope comes not from looking ahead but from connecting to the heart in the here and now. This connection brings us in touch with our essential goodness – our love and wisdom – and with what I call the One Great Heart, and what others might call God or a higher power, universal consciousness, Love or the sacredness of life. Even in darkness, pain, and grief, we can draw on our compassion and tenderness. From this space, we find the courage to take actions that not only spark hope within us but also spread it to others.
Because you can bring hope alive in so many ways: By inviting someone alone at Christmas to join your table, donating gifts to children in need, volunteering at a homeless shelter, supporting your local food bank. These actions turn hopelessness into light. If you can’t see the light, be the light.
Finally, cultivating hope means appreciating what we cherish. Gratitude strengthens our connection to real hope and fosters a sense of possibility. Hope doesn’t ignore the real challenges but meets each moment with curiosity and compassion. It is a habit, a lifeline, and a gift we offer ourselves and others.
As we prepare for Christmas, let us remember that Jesus was born into adversity. A homeless refugee, he came into the world under the shadow of oppression. His story reminds us that hope thrives in the most unlikely places.
I believe that when we practice hope, we are really practising love. As poet Danna Faulds writes:
“Where there’s love, there’s possibility,
and where there’s possibility, there’s energy.
Where there’s energy, anything at all can happen,
and where anything can happen, something good
will surely come of it.
If at any point things seem to go awry,
that’s when I begin again, with love.”
So let us begin again. Let us light the candle of possibility. Hope is not just a feeling or a wish; it is the courage to believe in a better tomorrow and the love to make it possible.
“Hope” is the Thing with Feathers” by Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
The Last Word by Danna Faulds (2003)
Take all the fear in the world and bring it here.
Throw it in a heap.
Now find insecurity and doubt.
Locate shame and anger, hatred and depravity.
Add them to the pile.
Find every obstacle to love. Bring denial and defiance, guilt, lies and sighs of desperation.
What does all this amount to?
How much is truth and how much is illusion?
If the whole world's suffering can't asphyxiate your love, then there is hope for us. Hold your love aloft in the gathering darkness and watch peace spread it's white wings wide.
If you can keep your love alive,
then war and madness won't have the last word.
Even now the dove is flying.
Desmond Tutu on Hope and Light
"Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.
We are fragile, made for goodness, made for love, and made for hope.
When we do wrong, it is against our very nature.
Yes, we may do dreadful things, but that is not what defines us.
God believes in us. God hopes in us. God loves us.
The gift of hope is the promise that no matter how deep the darkness,
a new dawn will come.
We can be bearers of that light.
We can be vessels of renewal.
And in doing so, we join hands with all creation,
working together to weave the tapestry of a better world."