Pentecost Greetings!

I am still basking in the joy of yesterday’s celebration of the gift of Holy Spirit to the Church and humankind. I am also contemplating the reality of the brevity and uncertainty of life, against a backdrop of beautifully delicate hues, representing the amazing nature of God’s love. It is a backdrop however, dotted here and there, with thick blotches, representing the pain, uncertainty and misery, the result of continuing wars [in Palestine] – the fact that there are many, including children, for whom the all-pervading experience of God’s love, is at best an elusive dream or worse, a figment of someone else’s imagination. I am contemplating all these, in tandem with the fact that one friend is lying comatose, in a hospital bed while another’s vibrancy…the  ability to move at will, has been significantly curtailed, on account of illness, recovery from which seems light years away. 

I keep telling myself that I need to revisit in an intentional way, the things I would like done to celebrate the end/beginning of my life. Thank God, a couple of years ago, I took the advice of a wise friend who insisted that I make a will, even as I protested having anything of consequence to leave to anyone. Perhaps a revision is in order, not because I want to write anyone out [laugh], but because some of the foolishness I thought worthy of leaving loved ones, may have already made it to Riverton City. Seriously though, this hope of eternity is not just for later…it begins now!

This morning in devotion, I happened upon a statement by Yale Professor, Willie Jennings, made within the larger context of thoughts he was expressing [could not hold back], in the wake of George Floyd’s murder and the scourge of racism, compounded by an ongoing pandemic that demonstrates among other things, the powerful influence of Mamon. I continue to turn it over in mind and heart, amazed at its challenge, especially that towards how to live the reality of hope, amidst the vagaries of life. Here’s the statement…

 “Hope is a discipline, it is not a sentiment!”                                                       

These days, with many religious clichés being bandied about, one gets the feeling that repeating them with aplomb, bears testimony to the strength of one’s faith and hope…the converse, being also true. I am seriously pained by the daily acts of violence in my beloved Jamaica and the seeming impotence, of people like me who affirm the omnipotence of God, to pray down His [fire] power, like Elijah [1 Kings 18:38] so that wrongs are made right and every difficult situation eased. I am deeply saddened by the incidence of illness and death, among family – including friends with whom I once shared good times…some so good, they’re beyond description! I am distressed by my seeming hypocrisy when in accompanying those in situations of grief, pain and loss, I sometimes use the word hope as it were, something to feel!

Don’t get me wrong, this is perhaps a lament, pushing me towards acknowledging with Prof. Jennings, that hope towards which I look…the hope onto which I hold here and now, is not a sentiment but rather, a lived experience, in the midst of life’s besetting challenges. This hope is rooted in the power of God to do immeasurably more than I can ask or imagine and the fact that I am sometimes unable to imagine, has more to do with human finitude, than hope’s reality. Hope therefore, is honed and becomes increasingly real, within the discipline of a life of daily communion with God. In such a life, every moment is precious and every trial, an invitation to draw even closer to Him.  The reality of death and dying therefore, is put in perspective, not as something to be feared, but as the inescapable gateway, to eternity’s other – and, if we read John in Revelation – indescribably beautiful side. Yes, hope is definitely not a sentiment!

Sometime ago, in an edition of Bible Reading Fellowship’s devotional New Daylight, one of its contributors described hope as “faith, standing on tiptoe”. In other words, it is the ability, in acknowledging them, to reach beyond life’s pains and uncertainties, to grab hold of that kernel of truth-filled reality, so beautifully articulated by the Apostle Paul, in Romans chapter eight, verses thirty-five to thirty-nine. 

So, being human, you and I will always feel the pain of grief and loss…the impotence that comes with those things we believe are beyond our power to change and yet, even there…hope springs eternal, beckoning us to an ever deepening relationship with God, the source of our hope and therefore, our joy – not only in the sweet by and by but right here…right now.

Until next week, continue to stay safe and well as you keep hope alive by remaining in His grip!

Grace+