Be Amazed: Hope in the Furnace
First Sunday of Advent – November 30, 2025
Names and Identity
During COVID, I found myself in a tiny exam room meeting a new doctor for the first time. The door swung open, and in he walked—scrubs, white coat, stethoscope over his shoulder. Because it was still the height of COVID protocols, he wore a mask and a face shield, so I couldn’t read his expression, but we made eye contact. Later, he would tell me he was from the Congo. He looked down at my chart, read my name aloud, and paused. “Calvary deJong,” he said slowly. Then he looked up again and added, “That is not a very common name.” He was right. People mix it up with cavalry or Calgary all the time. But he recognized right away that it had a religious meaning.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, “I blame my parents!” It reminded me of a shirt I had as a teenager that said, in big bold letters: MY PARENTS MADE ME WHAT I AM TODAY, and in smaller print underneath in parentheses: (I’m thinking of suing!) My new doctor friend didn’t laugh. He corrected me, almost like he wanted to protect something sacred: “No. Your name is a great honour.”
You see, in many African cultures, names are not just meant to sound nice; they are meant to be meaningful. Names like Happy, Blessed, Destiny, or God’s Will are very common. A name tells a story. A name provides an identity. And that takes us right into the heart of today’s Scriptures: When the world tries to rename you—when it tells you who you are—will you bow to that story? Or will you stand in the name God gives?
Habakkuk: Honest Faith, Defiant Hope
Habakkuk is a short book and one of the minor prophets, and rather than starting with a prophetic message from God to his people, it begins with a complaint from Habakkuk to God. Habakkuk looks at the nation of Judah and sees violence, injustice, and what is right being twisted, and he cries out, “How long, LORD, must I call for help, but you do not listen?” (Habakkuk 1:2, NIV). He is not just whining; he is pleading for God to act.
God answers, but not the way Habakkuk expects. “Look at the nations and watch—and be utterly amazed” (Habakkuk 1:5, NIV). Yet the “amaze” here is not a pleasant surprise. Instead, God says judgment is coming, and Babylon will be the instrument of Judah’s discipline.
Habakkuk protests again: how can a holy God use a nation even more wicked than Judah? God does not give Habakkuk a simple explanation, but He does give him a place to stand: live by faith, and remember that Babylon is not a god on a throne, but a tool in God’s hand. And, a warning that the Babylonians’ day of justice is coming too.
By the end, Habakkuk’s complaint has become worship. He imagines the worst that could happen—no fruit, no grain, no sheep, no cattle—and then he makes a stunning choice: “Yet I will rejoice in the LORD… The Sovereign LORD is my strength” (Habakkuk 3:18–19, NIV). That is defiant hope: joy anchored to God’s character, not to easy circumstances.
Daniel 3: When the Fire Gets Personal
Most people familiar with children’s Bible stories know Daniel’s three friends by their Babylonian names—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—but those weren’t their given names. Their Hebrew names were Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, and each one is a little confession of faith:
- Hananiah means “Yahweh is gracious.”
- Mishael means “Who is like God?”
- Azariah means “Yahweh has helped.”
These names are a daily reminder: we belong to the LORD. But Babylon renames them, because empires always do. An empire doesn’t just conquer land; it conquers imagination. It takes the best and brightest and attempts to assimilate them and “re-story” them: new language, new customs, new gods, new names. The goal is not simply to relocate you—it’s to redefine you. And the Babylonian names are not neutral. Their new names are designed to contradict the old ones:
- Shadrach is “command of Aku,” referencing Aku, a Mesopotamian moon-god.
- Meshach means “Who is like Aku?”—a rival confession meant to compete directly with “Who is like God?”
- Abednego means “servant of Nego/Nebo” a Babylonian deity associated with wisdom and writing
Do you see what Babylon is doing? Quietly replacing the identity of these young men. Then in Daniel 3, the empire stops making suggestions and starts making demands. A massive image is set up. Music plays. Everyone is commanded to bow. It’s a public loyalty test—an outward act meant to reveal inward allegiance.
But when the crowd bends its knee, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah stay standing. In effect, they are saying: You can place me in your system, and you can change what you call me, but you will not claim my highest allegiance. You can rename me—but you can’t own me. I will not bow.
Application: Bring Your Labels to Jesus
So here is the invitation for week one of Advent: bring to Jesus the labels people have placed on you—the ones you’ve worn so long they feel like your name. Failure. Disappointment. Not good enough. Overlooked. A burden. The Black Sheep.
Bring Jesus the labels others gave you and the ones you gave yourself: Divorced, Addicted, Anxious. Bring Him the labels the world uses to shrink you: too young, too old, irrelevant. And instead of bowing to those voices, bow to Jesus alone, and let Him speak the truest name over you: you are beloved children of God.
As a church, we choose the same path. We will not let the world rename us as too small to matter. Immanuel is with us. So we will make room for children and seniors, newcomers and long-timers—not as spectators, but as disciples with a place and a purpose. And when someone is in the furnace—whether that is a hospital room, long-term care, grief, loneliness—we will show up with the presence of Jesus.
Conclusion
Habakkuk teaches us to be honest about pain without quitting on God. Daniel’s friends teach us to stand when the world demands we bow. Advent tells us why we can do both: because God has come near. We are not alone in the fire, and we won’t bow. We will be amazed—because the Sovereign LORD is our strength, and Immanuel is with us.
Prayer of Response
Lord Jesus, when fear tries to rename us, help us to stand in Your grace. Teach us to rejoice in You when life is hard. Speak Your true name over us—beloved—and make us a people who carry Your presence into the furnace with those who suffer. Amen.