Gestures of Hope and Uncommon Courage

Blessed be God who animates our lives and calls us to radical hope and uncommon courage in these times. AMEN

I offer the words of Sister Joan Chittister, social activist and prophet: 

“In all my years of traveling around the world, one thing has been present in every region, everywhere. One thing has stood out and convinced me of the the certain triumph of the great human gamble on equality and justice.

Everywhere there are people who, despite finding themselves mired in periods of national darkness or personal marginalization refuse to give up the thought of a better future or givein to the allurements of a deteriorating present. They never lose hope that the values they learned in the best of times or the courage It takes to reclaim their world from the worst of times are worth the commitment of their lives. These people, the best of ourselves, are legion and they are everywhere. It is the unwavering faith, the open hearts, and the piercing courage of people from every level of every society that carries us through every major social breakdown to the emergence again of the humanization of humanity.”

What I hear in Joan Chittister’s words and what I hear in the lectionary today is a call to hope and courage. Radical Hope and Uncommon Courage in Extraordinary Times.

Hope is rooted in what Paul calls the first fruits of the Spirit. This hope/ so rooted so radical/ is the hope which fuels and forms our faith. It is the hope for things unseen, yet anticipated. It is as Paul says in Romans 8 the hope that all creation will be set free, all will be redeemed. We who are adopted by and imbued with the Spirit and its fruits wait with patience and gentleness and forebearance, like a pregnant woman groaning in labor pains.

That hope not to mention those fruits are often shrouded or frustrated by the sadness and sufferings of the world. 

It is easier to see suffering than it is to recognize hope. Suffering, sadness, sickness, death and oppression have taken tragically obvious places in our world. When I google images as I often do when writing or preparing reflections, I am astounded at the plethora of pictures of children malnourished, overcrowded hospitals, victims of police brutality, and tears of loved ones having witnessed too often early deaths. 

When I google hope, however, I often view beautiful scenes of nature, or even phrases on tshirts. Rarely do I get a gathering or face. Hope is difficult to portray. Yet it underlies authentic gestures of facing or stretching toward God.

So I spent some time this week thinking about signs of hope, gestures of hope. It takes careful observation and contemplative mode; it takes patience and gentleness and persistence. 

What then does hope look like? 

Emily Dickinson says it is that thing with feathers and there is a quality of lightness of being about most hope.

In these times of violence and sickness, I wonder if hope is appearing differently.

For the protesters it is a hope for change but it peers through exhaustion and frustration. Nevertheless, the gesture is in the showing up and standing for some truth: black lives matter for instance. There is radical hope behind that slogan. The hope to break down systemic racism.

In hospice the gestures of hope I observe are more familiar. Looks of relief at test results or medications which comfort. Looks of fondness and cherishing when loved ones gather. Most often the gestures in dying are of touch offering the hope of eternal peace to the dying and hope of a grief observed in love for the one who accompanies. The virus has interrupted our touch but the love and gaze remain.

Worship is another house of hope. We gather to praise God and to lift our prayers in hope of salvation and redemption to the Lord of all. Our gestures of hope are worn on our faces of reverence and devotion. Holy Listening also bears the mark of hope. 

Of course, children are often the first humans to express hope visibly! It is as though you cannot talk a child into hopelessness really, until they become victims of some tragedy which seems to shroud their hope. And from that point on a parent looks to rekindle that native hope that it might also rekindle hers. 

The Christian hope is the hope for things not yet fully realized but glimpsed.

As noted it is rooted in the fruits of the Spirit which cultivate hope: love, joy, patience, gentleness, kindness, forebearance, 

It is thus a radical, rooted, primitive, strong, enduring hope which does not disappoint. 

One of my favorite theologians Walter Earl Fluker speaking of the hopefilled protests and social justice movement of today says that in the Incarnation: God put flesh in the game. We are that embodiment of hope in action in the world. 

May we engage in gestures of hope with the the courage and conviction that they are not fruitless but fruitful. No matter how smoldering may we know hope is alive in us. May we know it is the still small voice which is always at least whispering: all will be well

Hope is the bridge between the now and the not yet.