At the Gates of Hope

 Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope—
not the prudent gates of Optimism, which are somewhat narrower;
nor the stalwart, boring gates of Common Sense;
nor the strident gates of Self-Righteousness, which creak on shrill and angry hinges (people cannot hear us there; they cannot pass through);
nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of “Everything is gonna be all right,”
but a different, sometimes lonely place, the place of truth-telling,
about your own soul first of all and its condition,
the place of resistance and defiance,
the piece of ground from which you see the world both as it is and as it could be,
as it might be, as it will be;
the place from which you glimpse not only struggle, but joy in the struggle—
and we stand there, beckoning and calling, telling people what we are seeing,
asking people what they see.
        —“Hope” by Victoria Safford

What is the mission of our church during this extended time of pandemic and physical separation?  Quite simply, as Victoria Stafford tells us, “our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope.”  What is the hope you see—the hope you long for?  The season of Lent is a perfect time to give yourself permission and space to hope.  To hope without expectation of the outcome.  But to trust the wisdom of your own soul’s leading.  Your hope could be simple.  Or elaborate.  It could be something close in.  Or it could be something generations in the distance.  Whatever it is, in the weeks ahead, let hope be your guide.  Let it encourage your soul-searching and vision-clearing.  Let it prepare you and open you up to the transformation that the resurrected presence of Christ promises to bring to our lives and to our world. What is the real and tenacious hope you see—the joyful and just hope you long for?  The world desperately needs your hope.

See you in (zoom) church,  
Christy