Ongoing Hope for Better Days
One of my favorite Christmas songs is one that rarely is noticed as such. In “Better Days” the Goo Goo Dolls sing about forgiveness and renewal, and how Christmas Eve is “the night the world begins again.”
I think it’s safe to say that it’s been a turbulent year for our country and world. It was a roller coaster ride of a presidential campaign, unlike any other, and a very divisive one. Wars continue to be waged in Israel-Palestine and Ukraine. There was record growth in the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, and tornadoes and hurricanes left parts of our country devastated. These and many other issues of our time feel stuck with no quick fixes or easy answers. Amid them, hope for a breakthrough and renewal can seem far off.
In these darkening days of advent, I find myself praying for the better days the Goo Goo Dolls sing about. I can pray this because I live with hope – hope that has been revealed to me time and again by the Holy One.
Real hope is not fleeting positivity. There’s been some of that this year too. Caitlin Clark’s record-breaking season and the Paris Olympics were inspiring to watch. It was fun to gather for the solar eclipse. But for me, these were moments of reprieve and served more as a way to cope and find temporary escape from the malaise.
In her poem The Gates of Hope, Victoria Safford says that hope begins with truth-telling. The gates of hope she describes are a place of “resistance and defiance.” They are a place where we see things both as they are and as they could be. Real hope comes from both looking at the world as it really is and simultaneously seeing its potential.
This understanding of hope makes me think of the three wise ones who followed the star all the way to Bethlehem to meet baby Jesus who they said was the new king. They told their truth and were bold in their pursuit of it. They also engaged in some savvy resistance and defiance of a malicious ruler. And they could see the truth of a baby in a manger and also see the truth of him as a “king,” though perhaps not how most of us then and now think of what a king is. Perhaps another aspect of hope is revealed in their humility. They say their piece, offer their gifts, and go on their way. They may be wise, but they are not showboats about it. Real hope guided these actions of the wise ones, and I think they can evoke and spread hope among us now.
I’ve found that my hope swells when I have encountered such courageous truth-telling and gracious humility. Occasionally, I receive cards from folks who participated in a pilgrimage or other offering that I’ve led, and they tell me something that I did or said and how it positively impacted them. I hang onto these cards when I need to remember that what I’m doing has meaningful impact. But I am also grateful – truly – for moments when people have offered feedback to me about something I said or did that hurt them. When offered in a respectful way, such courageous truth-telling reflects that they trust me enough, respect me enough, to share something that might not be easy to say. Offering such feedback doesn’t usually come with a lot to be gained by the person offering it. If anything, our truth-telling bears risks and I think that should be respected. Instances of truth-telling give me hope because without them we don’t have the possibility for transformation.
Shalem’s vision is called Our Ongoing Hope, and I think it’s fitting title. Our vision statement calls us to be an organization that supports transformation through “spiritual growth, deep connection, and courageous action.” It’s a vision rooted both in who we are and who we can become. Our guiding principles can be understood as ways to resist and defy popular narratives that can keep us from transformation. They remind us that a healthy spirituality is one in which God is in charge and leads to the dismantling of unjust systems and structures, that sacred abundance is a reality to live fully out of, and that infinite human diversity is reflected in many spiritual paths and that all should be honored. Finally, our focus areas and associated organizational goals reflect where we are now and what we need to do in the near-term future to be who we are called to be.
This is a vision that is grounded in our reality, honest about the work ahead, convicted in the countercultural nature of contemplative spirituality, and aspirational in our potential as an organization. And it’s coming alive at Shalem through big and small acts of folks all across our community who care about Shalem and the impact we have. Our ongoing hope, indeed.
As you receive this, the days are continuing to get darker. The wars continue. More carbon is spewing into the atmosphere. Our national cohesion is under stress. And yet, I have hope for better days because I see every day the possibility contemplative spirituality rooted in love has to change the world. As a contemplative I try to remain radically present to what is. And while it can be hard to see in the news headlines, God’s creative possibilities shimmer all around us – like twinkling stars in an otherwise dark night. I imagine them beckoning me, “Hey, over here! Watch, I’m about to do a new thing!” May we see these stars and follow them.
