by Ken Sehested
On the eve of an election that could return a scurrilous man to the Oval Office and unleash a befouled future. If not, should he lose, trouble is still brewing, with the prospect of a rising tide of political violence and a tempest of peril and turmoil, like a razor poised at hope’s throat.
Nevertheless, people of faith and conscience are steadied by eyes fixed on a larger horizon. As the ancients admonish: Return to your stronghold you prisoners of hope. (cf . Zechariah 9:12)
§ § §
Processional. “Botho,” University of Johannesburg Choir, arr. Mbuso Ndlovu: “Humanity begins with gratitude and respect.”
Invocation. “People speak of hope as it is this delicate ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider’s webs. It’s not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of cobblestone in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.” —Matthew@crowsFault
§ § §
Hope is not well-wishing: is not dreaminess, is not a hunch, is not fantasizing, is not whistling past a graveyard or positive-power thinking.
Hope is not optimism which—like its kissing cousin, pessimism—is subject to moods, electoral polling results, unpredictable weather, hormonal messages, or dependent on which-side-of-the-bed you got up this morning.
Hope is not downy soft, is not mint julipy, is not a ride on a sweet unicorn while scattering glitter.
§ § §
“This is an extraordinary time full of vital, transformative movements that could not be foreseen. It’s also a nightmarish time. Full engagement requires the ability to perceive both.” —Rebecca Solnit, “Hope in the Dark”
§ § §
Hope is a bucking bronco.
Count on being thrown. Multiple times. Sometimes hitting the ground hard. Sometimes resulting in deep bruises, broken bones, maybe worse.
You will face the fearsome choice of getting up, dusting yourself off, grabbing for the saddle horn and throwing a leg over. Yet again. More determined than ever, despite the odds.
The odds are never good, based on what can be seen in a world that seems predicated on connivance and threat. But the heart can see further, if not hardened or shackled or sold into servitude.
And hope could very well take you to places you haven’t imagined, and maybe didn’t want to go.
§ § §
“May your choices reflect your hope, not your fears.” —Nelson Mandela
§ § §
Hope is rugged. Hope is not hope absent the context of threat.
Hopeful people are built for adversity, turmoil, occasions when the good is bound and gagged and strapped to a threatened funeral pyre. Being present on the margins, where life is coming apart, provides a clarity about God’s purposes that is not available anywhere else. It teaches us about our own spiritual poverty; it directs us to an affirmation of hope strong enough to endure despair; it steels our weak knees and timid hearts in the midst of adversity.
Of course, hope is not always melodramatic or theatrical. Every parent worthy the title endures a toddler’s temper tantrum and adolescent recklessness. They know that such convulsions do not predict a future outcome. Such persistence in the trenches—“when the food must come in or the fire be put out” (Marge Piercy)—is hope’s most common manifestation.
§ § §
Word. “I don’t know how my mother walked her trouble down / I don’t know how my father stood his ground / I don’t know how my people survive slavery / I do remember, that’s why I believe. . . . / My God calls to me in the morning dew / The power of the universe, It knows my name / Gave me a song to sing and sent me on my way / I raise my voice for justice, I believe…” —“I Remember, I Believe,” Sweet Honey In the Rock
§ § §
When hope crashes on the shoals of despair, we close our eyes and make our way back to the deepest recesses of our hearts where the memories of All Saints Day are stored; and there we recount again the names, the faces, the stories of those gone before, who paved the way to this moment; and we imagine that we carry forward, to a future beyond our reach, when others, finding themselves in similar grief, find footing on our shoulders.
§ § §
“The resurrection hope finds living expression in men and women when they protest against death. . . . But it does not live from this protest. It lives from joy in the coming victory of life.” —Jürgen Moltman, “Bread and Wine”
§ § §
As Galadriel says to Celeborn in Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings, “Hope remains while the Company is true.” Which is why finding and abiding in true company is crucial.
Have you such company?
§ § §
Benediction. “Blessed are you who bear the light in unbearable times, who testify to its persistence when everything seems in shadow and grief. Blessed are you in whom the light lives, in whom the brightness blazes—your heart a chapel, an altar where in the deepest night can be seen the fire that shines forth in you in unaccountable faith, in stubborn hope, in love that illumines every broken thing it finds.” —Jan Richardson
Recessional. “You are the God of justice / You are the God who sees / You are the God who heals and / Who loves the world through me / We believe our love can change things / We will not live silently / You are the God of justice / You are the God who sees.” —“The Whole World Is Waiting,” The Many
# # #
See my follow up, post election post: What to do with electoral disconsolation
