.

Open the heavens and come down, O God of hope.

Bring your hope so near we can taste it—

Crisp and refreshing as apples,

Warm and tingly as a spiked hot chocolate.

.

We have seen glimpses of your hope in communities of solidarity and recovery

and in rich conversations with our brothers and sisters in the faith.

When the local whale watchers protected the humpback calf from harm,

we knew your presence.

Give us hope to trust you are at work in ways we cannot see,

like an ambient melody

that elevates and alters a space.

.

We have heard your promises:

that you have good plans for each of us

and that you will be with us wherever we go,

in heaven, on earth, and in every place they meet in You.

Every child shall have vision for a future beyond politicking and conflict.

The young shall teach us to build one another up in mutual respect.

.

Christ, our hope, make a way through the desert of despair.

Lead us to campsites in lush meadows by hidden pools.

Comfort us and give us hope,

that we may comfort others in your name.

Anoint us with your Spirit to bring good news

to those sleeping outside and suffering in war zones.

Inspire our leaders.

Restore our humanity.

.

We are God’s people.

We light this candle as a sign of God’s hope

that brightens grey skies

like the rosy brushstrokes of dawn

and the glow of the turning leaves

O come, Immanuel.

.

(This year’s Advent candle-lighting liturgies are crafted around the 2023 lectionary texts and input from congregants of Bethany Presbyterian Church of Seattle)