Hope is complicated

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What’s the right thing to do?  What does this earth require of us if we want to live on it

          Wendell Berry

 

I don’t want your hope.  I don’t want you to be hopeful.  I want you to panic… and act as if the house is on fire because it is.

          Greta Thunberg

 

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute,” (Psalm 82:3).

 

“Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, and please the widow’s cause,” (Isaiah 1:17).

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The world is burning

lightening like Devil forks rain down from the sky

igniting

forests gasping for water

 

people gather

not to worship or pray

but to scream rage and listen to rage

word salad

lies

promises of power and retribution

drop like pebbles

into empty hearts

heavy

leaving bent people

 

bullets fly

desperation and hopelessness

free floating anger

displaced

misplaced

as politicians duck and children die

 

some stand aside

and watch

powerful enough, rich enough

detached

content

powerful people don’t want regime change

rich people don’t want equity

the privileged don’t care about justice

 

and in this burning, dangerous world

sliding into chaos and destruction

we stand

 

hoping

 

Why?

Because God has this?

Because love wins?

Because someday, one day it will all be over

and we will walk streets of gold?

 

some dare to hope because they are shielded by privilege

some do not dare hope for anything

on this side of death

so look beyond

 

But is it that simple?

That God is in control,?

That resolution lies on “the other side”?

 

Hope is complicated (Brian McLaren, Life after Doom p. 73ff)

Hope cannot simply be “hope-ium… palliative care to the oppressed

between now and their death.” (p. 75)

 

Hope is not an anesthetic.

Hope is something we live.

 

It is fighting for justice and equity

feeding the hungry

giving water to the thirsty

It is resisting empire

and building community

 

It is the antithesis

of complacency

and despair

 

It is believing that we must do

what we can do

and that we can do

something

 

because we are Sacred Children

and in each of us

the Spirit has pitched a tent

and we are filled

to overflowing

 

Hope is seeing that the world is good

It is seeing God in the mountains

it is seeing God in the person next to us

it is believing that we can do small things

that matter

 

It is believing (as Brian McLaren puts it)

“We are really, really f@(ked  and at the same time that

life is really, really good”  p. 77

 

So today

I am going to have hope

and I am going to plot good

and then I am going to go to bed

and get up

and do it again!

 

(even if nothing changes)

 

 

 

Words of the Prophets

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The prophets spoke

cried out

screamed

 

as tyrants schemed

and empire flourished

and justice was denied

 

as inequity, inequity,

and the abuse of power became the norm

 

this must stop!

this is what the Lord requires of you

 

“He has told you, O mortal, what is good, and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah)

 

The prophets spoke

feeling the pain of the poor

seeing the neglect of the vulnerable

watching as the rich and power

treated the immigrants with disrespect

 

this must stop

 

“Woe to those who devise iniquity, and work out evil on their beds! At morning light they practice it, because it is in the power of their hand. They covet fields and take them by violence, also houses and seize them. So they oppress… “  (Micah)

 

The prophet spoke

and their words

echoed over empty cities

and broken walls

 

their words were blown aimlessly

through the ruins of palaces and sanctuaries

 

sometimes it is too late

sometimes the people will not listen

the people wanting power

the people comfortable in their affluence

the people blinded by resentment and fear

 

they do not listen

they do not hear

 

and they choose their doom

and it comes

inexorably

 

death

 

sometimes, it seems

things have to die to be born again

sometimes the new

can only be built out of the rubble of the old

 

So in this time

when tyrants are given immunity

criminals are protected

justice is denied

prejudice is promoted

violence is ignored

hate is nurtured

 

the words of the prophets echo

amongst the crumbling edifices of a failing state

and God insists

that God will not be mocked

 

We are reminded that we can cry Lord, Lord

and not do the will of God

That we can claim faith and deny it

 

In the days of the prophets

the very structures that were to promote God’s presence

denied God’s presence

The halls of Justice were the places where justice was denied

The halls of power abused and manipulated

 

In the days of the prophets

God was denied and the people suffered

 

The days of the prophets

are here

Belief Examined

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Faith is not belief unexamined

But belief born of deep thought…

 

Religion is not the captive of automated hearts

set to march in silent obedience

nor the museum of final thoughts

beyond which no questions are asked

 

it is the forum of the wise and wondrous,

the company of the healed and healers

the school of human imagination,

the blessed community of the Spirit

Gathered in the clear light of the open mind

          Steven Charleston,  Spirit Wheel, Broadleaf Books, p. 211

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There are those moments

when sadness falls like a winter night

shrouding joy

blurring the space between precious souls

 

We sit, companionably

siblings

in a comfortable space forged by a lifetime

 

and yet there is a disturbance rippling

born of ideologies disparate

that odd rippling that comes when certainty meets questioning

 

that comes when final thoughts are nestled

and questions no longer rise

to the lips

 

where assumptions are held

assumptions about God and faith

assumptions about the other

 

my questioning soul meets the certainty

of one who is settled in her place

rooted

not just in the land, but also in

the communities that exist in this slow space

nestled in the mountains

 

but my questing mind which challenges everything

forgets to challenge

its own conclusions

and I assume much

and my assumptions shatter the ties that bind

 

Clinging precariously to my sense of rightness

and my hurt and resentment too

officiously opining

I challenge their certainty and replace it

with my own

 

openness lost

paradise lost

 

until my certainty circles around

and confronts me

and my heart is broken

open

 

and one estranged becomes

again

one loved and valued

 

now and always

and in the rubble of that liminal space

understanding grows

and the old wineskins crack and break

and new wineskins are created to contain

 

love, and compassion, and

we find each other