Christmas is often filled with expectations. We hope the gatherings go well, the relationships feel lighter, the joy feels real, and the weight we’ve been carrying somehow eases. Ironically, the season built around hope can feel heavier than the rest of the year.
Luke 2 introduces us to Simeon, a man who understood weight—and release.
When Simeon takes the infant Jesus into his arms, his response is striking. He doesn’t celebrate loudly or ask for more time. He simply says, “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace.” That word now tells the story. Something has shifted. Something has been lifted.
Simeon had been carrying the weight of expectation, longing, and promise for years. He had waited for God’s consolation, trusting that redemption would come. But in this moment, waiting gives way to peace. Hope hasn’t increased his burden—it has removed it.
This is what biblical hope does. It doesn’t pile pressure onto our lives; it releases us from carrying what we were never meant to hold alone.
Then Simeon says something even more profound: “My eyes have seen your salvation.” Salvation, for Simeon, is not an idea or a plan. It’s not a future outcome. Salvation is a person. God didn’t send hope as a message from heaven—God became hope and stepped into the world.
That distinction matters. If hope were a feeling, it would fade. If hope were an outcome, it could disappoint. But because hope is a person—Jesus—it remains steady even when life is not.
Simeon also understands the scope of this hope. Jesus is “a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to Israel.” This hope crosses boundaries. It reaches outsiders. It includes people who feel forgotten, distant, or unworthy. No one is beyond its reach.
That truth reshapes how we see others—and ourselves. If Jesus is hope for all people, then no story is finished yet. No person is too far gone. No failure is final.
Christmas often tempts us to trust the season itself. We expect the decorations, traditions, and emotions to do what only Jesus can do. When the day doesn’t live up to expectations, disappointment sets in. But Christmas was never meant to carry the weight of our hope. Jesus already has.
Simeon shows us a better way. He receives what God has already prepared. He doesn’t strive. He doesn’t perform. He rests.
This Christmas, we’re invited into the same response. To stop chasing hope in outcomes. To stop striving to earn peace. To stop assuming people are beyond God’s work. And to trust the Savior—not the season.
When we do, we can leave like Simeon did—not carrying more, but carrying peace.
Because hope has come near.
And His name is Jesus.
Upside Down Faith 