The chalk art shown pictured here was sent to me by my 9-yr old granddaughter a few days ago. This is the same granddaughter who challenges me with deep theological questions, like, "Who created God?", and "How long has God been alive?" Her art has drawn me into thinking about hope, especially in midst of the coronavirus pandemic of 2020.
In the last few days I've come across brief essays that raised even more questions in my mind about this thing we call hope. The authors are N.T. Wright, the retired Bishop of Durham in England, and well-known Anglican theologian, and the other is a gentleman named Andy Davis, Ph.D, senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Durham, North Carolina.
In Wright's essay titled, Christianity Offers No Answers About Coronavirus, he observes that this Lenten season, unlike any other in modern times, is in a real sense a shared experience, whether one is religious or not; "This is a stillness, not of rest, but of poised, anxious sorrow." He goes on to say that in the midst this pandemic some will seek rational explanations as to the why of our circumstances. Yet speculation on the cause, even if well informed, can offer us no peace, no true shalom, especially in the face of our own fears, and the suffering being experienced by so many. Instead, he calls to mind the biblical tradition of lament, and several of the Psalms that exemplify this cry of the heart. A lament is in essence: giving voice to our pain and sorry, and without knowing how things may resolve, waiting patiently in the midst of our circumstances. Wright, again addressing rationalism as the way to deal with reality, shares a brief quote from T.S. Elliot's poem, East Cocker, that alludes to, but unfortunately doesn't fully develop the perspective he presents: "wait without hope, because we’d be hoping for the wrong thing."
It is this excerpt from Elliot's poem, and Wright's discounting of the value of rational explanations for the world-wide pandemic, that seems to draw Davis' rebuke in, Surprised by Hopelessness: A Response to N.T. Wright. He opens with this statement, and I quote: "Rather than trying to locate ultimate meaning in answers about what God is doing in all this, we should follow the psalmists in hopeless lament. Yes, hopeless." In short order Davis offers an antidote to "hopelessness" by shifting our focus to the ultimate promises of God in Christ - "And he told us in Scripture where the journey of history ends: in a new heaven and new earth, radiant with the glory of God, populated by redeemed people from every nation, people purified by faith in Jesus Christ (Rev. 7:9–14)." And in response to futility of seeking rational explanations, he turns to the Scriptures as the source of knowledge for answers to our questions about tragedy and suffering. (His exposition reminds one of the Tapestry metaphor as answer to the question of theodicy.)
While Davis' points are doctrinally orthodox he seems to have misunderstood the essence of Wright's message. Perhaps he is unfamiliar with East Cocker, one of the Four Quartets composed by Elliot over a seven year period from 1935 to 1942; East Cocker being written in 1941 just prior to the German Blitz of England. Below I share a longer excerpt from the poem:
"I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing."
When Elliott penned these words England was under imminent threat of destruction, conquest and rule by the Nazis; much of Europe had already suffered defeat and occupation. With no evidence of deliverance on the horizon, it would not be surprising if hope was in short supply in England at the time. In East Cocker Elliot calls humanity to abandon the hubris that rationalism has fostered, to adopt a deep sense of humility in the face of our shared flaws, and to seek our significance in God alone.
I expect that Wright, being an Englishman who would be steeped in his national culture, references Elliot's poem because of the parallel between that time in England, and what we're all going through in trying to cope with the Coronavirus pandemic of today.
I am drawn to the line in the poem that reads: "But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting". It strikes me that hope cannot stand alone from faith and love. Our faith is based on what God had done in Jesus Christ (past) and our hope is fixed on what God will ultimately do (future), but our lives and the demands of love come to us moment-by-moment (present); ... faith, hope and love abide, but the greatest of these is love (1 Cor 13:13).
Jesus calls us to follow him. Too many of us (myself included) don't initially grasp the radical nature of the call. Paul clearly did: "Present your bodies as living sacrifices ... be no longer conformed to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind ..." (Romans 12:1,2) The way of the cross is unequivocal surrender in each moment of our lives. If we are willing to follow Jesus we cannot avoid times of lament. Consider the scene in the Garden of Gethsemane when Jesus is in anguish over the fate that lies before him: "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death, stay here and keep watch with me." (Matt 26:38). And then he prays three times: "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet, not as I will but as you will." (Matt 26:39) After this he rises and goes out from the Garden to complete his work. Jesus calls us to follow him unconditionally.
Carrying on the work of love and reconciliation will inevitably involve being present to those around us who are grieving over loss, isolation and dread of what we may experience in the next days, weeks and months. In our humanity we will almost certainly struggle with lament and our own fears before we come to a place of surrender. But in our surrendering we will find God present to us and in us. We may not find answers, but we will assuredly find the profound peace and deep love whose source is God alone. Then and only then are we prepared to minister to a world in desperate need of faith and hope and love. Come Lord Jesus, come. Amen
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