I am happy to kick off the meditations on the sermon series for St. Luke’s Hope Project here at The R/Evolving Ox.
I had a number of thoughts regarding current events and even my own process of writing, while I was writing the sermon for this past Sunday. On Saturday afternoon I wrote this meditation:
“1:26 PM, Saturday, June 21, 2008.
“I sit in Argo, sipping my Iced Maté Latte, and listening to my iPod, as I try to finish my sermon for tomorrow. In my work clothes (I work at a hip vegetarian restaurant in Boystown), sitting here in Lakeview, I feel hip and rich (even though I have no insurance and carry significant debt). But I can’t help but wonder if this feeling only distracts me from the great despair of the world. I think about the future—when I’ll have a regular job, and I’ll be using all of this education I’ve accumulated—and I wonder, will my ears only be more closed to the suffering and the hopelessness of the multitudes who are the target of Jesus’ good news of Hope.
“Hope. That’s what this sermon is about. More specifically, it’s about how as a church we cultivate hope in a hopeless world. And I confess I sometimes worry that we talk a good game and we work the programs, but that we don’t do it because we carry the hope of Christ’s future in our hearts, much less in our bones. Do we work toward a new creation, which will some day break in with the much-anticipated return of Christ? Or do we try to put band-aids and patches on what we see? Am I—are we—far too distracted to even think about what hope for the world might look like, beyond my great sophistication and erudition?
“So, in the middle of my sermon, I wonder whether I should even say anything. I wonder how it will be received. Will I sound too ‘preachy’? Will I sound terribly concerned with obsolete religious sensibilities and dogmas? But more importantly, am I saying anything that is true and actually important? After all, all the distractions of life in this country—insurance, salaries, retirement plans)—these are the stuff of life in America. These are not really optional for the future. But then I read the words of Jesus in the Gospel lesson: ‘Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father’s will. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.’ Fear not. Place your hope in me. And follow. Follow my voice. I will lead you home.”
Of course, I did manage to say a few worthwhile things on Sunday. And indeed, my sermon rounded off with a question: How do we cultivate hope in the midst of a hopeless world?
How do we cultivate, together, the virtue and discipline of hope. After the 10:00 service, I received a number of well-wishers and encouraging remarks. But two parishioners offered very thoughtful responses. One was struck when I called hope “an active disposition based on the future reality of God’s reign.” Hope is a disposition, not an emotional whim. It is a way of seeing the world. But it is also an active disposition. Hope does not keep its own company, but is active always striving for that which is unseen. For Christianity, hope is not blind. Christian hope sees the world as ripe for transformation because of its vision of God’s coming kingdom. Jesus pronounced that the Kingdom of God is at hand. As participants in that kingdom and this world, we live forward to hasten the coming kingdom. Not in military or by force, because God’s coming kingdom is a peaceable kingdom. A kingdom of love. A kingdom of justice and mercy. One kingdom, under God. And so we proclaim peace, we exercise mercy, we cry out for justice, and most importantly we love. We love only because we hope. Without hope for the world, what or whom shall we love. Without hope for the lawless ones, how shall we love our enemies? But because God’s kingdom ever beckons us in the way of Jesus Christ, we find the strength to love our enemies as well as our friends. We find strength to love the unlovable, just as Christ first loved us.
Another parishioner, likewise commented that my question about cultivating hope reminded her of marriage and that couple sometimes stay married out of the commitment and decision to stay married. It is the covenant to be together that keeps a married couple together through bad times and good. Similarly, it is our decision to hope in God’s kingdom, it is our faith in the coming of God, that sustains our hope here and now. For that reason prayer and study of Scripture are of supreme importance for cultivating and nourishing hope. Again, this parishioner reminded me that one of the radical aspects of hope is that hope is not a simply emotion or wishfulness, but a spiritual virtue to be nurtured through concrete practices. Hope is a discipline. Hope is hard work.
So, in what ways do we cultivate hope? What practices can we engage to nurture hope? Or, what are we already doing that celebrates and activates hope within us and our church? This is where the conversation begins. Please offer your comments and suggestions.
Grace and Peace,
Andy Guffey
Update: An audio file of the sermon can be found here.
