Jesus, as we enter again
into the odd story of your unusual arrival,
we find hope in the unprecedented.

We find hope
in the ambivalence and complexity
of words like restructuring and remission—
such open-future words
that could mean anything,
that mean anything could happen.

We find hope
in the mixed blessings
where our faithlessness and your faithfulness meet,
like our failure to care for your creation
leading to the unmerited favor
of this disconcertingly gorgeous fall.

You set the lonely in families
and the rootless in neighborhoods.
You bring the wanderers
into communities of faith
built and stewarded by generations
in the hope of our coming and yours.

Awaken us to our role
as astonished agents of hope
in such unlikely places
as our own gutted organizations,
our own unsettled families,
and our own anxious minds.

We are God’s people.
We light this candle
as a sign of our hope in the God
who comes to us in our darkest hour
and makes a home among us.
O come, Immanuel