Minister's Column

Dear Ones:

I’ve been trying to prepare for our December ministry theme, hope. Full disclosure: though I experience myself as a hopeful person, the words aren’t coming—at least not yet, not in the middle of November when this column is due!! So I am borrowing liberally from a previous sermon I wrote on hope. These words are working for me! I hope they work for you.

Hope is certainly an appropriate theme for December, the “darkest” month, the month in which so many festivals of light take place; the month in which so many lights symbolize hope at the darkest time of the year. I suspect there is something deep in our cultural DNA that yearns for light in the midst of darkness. I suspect our ancient human ancestors—especially those in the northern latitudes—experienced winter as a difficult time, a time of hunger, a time of worry—will we survive? The return of the sun at the Winter Solstice must have been a powerful and inspiring moment, one that generated profound hope in human hearts—the days are getting longer; we’re going to make it!

I sense this deeper, ancient yearning at the heart of the Biblical Christmas story. I sense it at the heart of the Hanukkah story. I sense it at the heart of the Christmas tree ritual—a pagan ritual—the placing of an evergreen inside the home, decorating it, lighting it—an enduring symbol of hope at the darkest time of the year.

Yet I also recognize that many people just don’t feel hopeful right now. As you’ve heard me say many times, we are living in an age of authoritarianism. For this reason, and others, hope is difficult to find.

There are techniques for cultivating hope in an era of increasing hopelessness. In her 2010 book, The Gifts of Imperfection, the popular researcher/social worker/storyteller, Brené Brown, says, “hope is not an emotion; it's a way of thinking or a cognitive process. Emotions play a supporting role, but hope is really a thought process made up of [a] trilogy of goals, pathways, and agency.” Hope happens when “1) we have the ability to set realistic goals (I know where I want to go); 2) we are able to figure out how to achieve those goals, including the ability to stay flexible and develop alternative routes (I know how to get there, I'm persistent, and I can tolerate disappointment and try again); and 3) we believe in ourselves (I can do this!).” This may seem obvious to many of us, but there’s an important reminder here: hope can be learned! I like that.

If you are among those who find it difficult to feel hopeful—and even if you aren’t—I have a threefold prayer for you. First, may the hope of this season wash over you, lift your spirits, connect you to that ancient experience of witnessing the sun’s return. Second, in this dark season, may you step back from the busyness of everyday life, engage in self-reflection, and discern where it is you want to go and how to get there. Third, may you believe in yourself.

Or perhaps I can sum up this prayer in one short sentence: May you hope!

With love, care and hope,

Rev. Josh

#DecemberNewsletter