In much of modern Christianity, love has become a sentimental feeling of warmth toward family, affection toward God, or admiration toward others. But biblical love is not an emotion; it is a revolution of relationship. It names God’s self-giving solidarity with a wounded world. It is the choice to draw near when fear pushes us toward distance.

Every Advent, the third candle burns for joy. Yet this word, like “hope” and “peace,” has been emptied of its full power. In much of modern faith, joy has become a synonym for positivity—the demand to keep spirits high, to smile through discomfort, to make worship cheerful even when the world is not. But the joy of scripture arises from trust that God’s future is breaking into the present.

Every Advent, the second candle flickers for peace. Yet like hope, this word has grown soft in the Christian imagination. “Peace” has come to mean inner calm, social quiet, or the absence of visible conflict. But throughout Scripture, peace is not just the absence of conflict, but the presence of justice. The Bible’s peace—shalom—names the wholeness of creation restored, the healing of injustice, the reconciliation of enemies, and the overthrow of every false order built on domination and control.

Advent begins this Sunday, and this week's Advent theme is HOPE. Today, hope often sounds like wishful thinking. We use the word to describe personal aspirations, feelings, or a positive outlook. But biblical hope is not optimism. It's born in the midst of despair—in exile, under empire, among people who have every reason to give up.