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"we hope for what we do not see"
Romans 8:18-28
Some weeks ago, I was waiting for a train on Redfern station and was greeted enthusiastically by a young man who was a little unkempt, a bit smelly and quite spaced out.
“I've met you before. I know you. You're a doctor”, he said.
I said, “I don't think we've met before. I'm not from around here.”
Still convinced, he asked, “But aren't you a doctor?”
“No. I'm not a medical doctor.”
“What do you do?”
“I'm a minister of the church.”
He shook my hand enthusiastically, so I asked, “What do you do?”
His replied, “Just a bit of cocaine.”
I certainly do not encourage the use of illicit drugs. But it seems to me that drug abuse is a perfectly rational response to life today. Is not the natural, reasonable condition of people, at least in the “western” world today, one of despair? It may be that our young cocaine user is much more aware, more sensitive, more attuned to the cultural and political currents, more realistic, than the self-assured business-persons in pin-stripes clutching their notebook computers and mobile phones.
When we see:
The sheer heartlessness treating people who have left everything, and risked their lives to escape persecution, being treated as worse than criminals and imprisoned without trial;
The obscenity of multimillion dollar salaries for failed CEOs and tax cuts for the rich; but incredibly difficult and complex Centrelink bureaucracy in order for the poor to claim a few dollars to buy basic necessities;
The most appalling hypocrisy of the most powerful nation in the world with between five and ten thousand nuclear warheads and the only country to have used nuclear weapons against another nation, dictating to the rest of the world who may and may not have nuclear technology (opposed as I am to the development of nuclear technology of any kind);
The insanity of 450,000 people dead and 3 million people displaced in Darfur having their rations halved because wealthy nations where pets eat more, refuse to help;
Then despair, it seems to me, is an entirely understandable response.
I wonder if the many thousands who are diagnosed with clinical depression in western societies, are not suffering depression (which is the opposite of contentment) at all, but an entirely reasonable and justified despair (which is the opposite of hope).
Hanging over all this is the apocalyptic and apparently inevitable reality of global warming, resulting in rising sea levels and massive climate change. Scientists are pressured by governments not to talk about it. (It may upset the punters who have to be kept happy so they will vote for us at the next election.)
The myth of inevitably progress, one of the predominant myths of secular western society, has been found to be hollow, empty and a false promise. All except a few intransigent capitalists and politicians seem to know it.
So, what are some rational responses? In the face of this, what can our most thoughtful people and our most sensitive people do?
The most common response, it seems to me is to pretend that this reality does not exist. Turn off the news. Change the channel to some utterly banal and mindless sitcom. Seek oblivion in drugs or alcohol. Drop out of society and grow organic vegies in a little rainforest retreat.
The suburban variation on this is to retreat behind the four walls of our house, and confine our world to “the family”, or whoever our household consists of, as our island of sanity. The problem with that is that the world out there impinges on our family in all sorts of ways. The cynicism, suspicion, vulgarity, crassness, rudeness and apathy of the wider society seeps through the walls of our houses. We weep when, despite our best efforts, we see it infecting our children and grandchildren.
Of course there are so-called “Christian” versions of this also. There are plenty of churches which escape into some unreality, be it an imagined other-worldly spirituality or a feel-good emotionalism.
It seems to me that if you and I do not sense the despair in our own souls then we, too, are probably engaging in some kind of escapism.
Is there any way we can face the truth of our situation and not be overwhelmed with despair? Is there any way we can be honest and not sink under the weight of the sheer insanity around us? How do we cope with the world and continue to live half decent lives?
I know of only one way. It has to do with Good Friday and Easter. It has to do with facing up to the absolute horror and torture of the cross. It has to do with the women who came to the tomb despairing and ran away bursting with joy to tell others “We have seen the Lord!” it has to do with the assurance “He is not here, he is risen.” It has to do with the entirely realistic hope of the gospel.
The words of Paul in the reading assure us that the resurrection of Christ has to do with the renewal of creation. This is not a wishy-washy hope; a wistful “it-would-be-great-if-it-happened,-but-it-probably-won't”. No, this is a hope in which we can be entirely confident - because it is based on the promises of God.
With these words in our ears and our hearts, we can have the courage to confront the despair head on and begin to live by Christ's alternative vision - the vision of God's reign in our midst. To live with the vision of the Reign of God breaking into the present and the magnificent harmonies of the Reign of God in our hearts, is to live with hope.
We celebrate that in the Lord's Supper. ÊKairos breaks into chronos. The Reign of God breaks into the mundane. Hope breaks into despair. It happens in faithful preaching. It even happens in all the ordinary, everyday occurrences of life.
As Douglas John Hall has said:
Eschatology refers to the attempt of human minds inspired by faith to keep these two almost naturally conflictual dimensions of time in juxtaposition. That means on the one hand maintaining an uncompromising realism despite and even though the incomprehensibilities and vanities of the daily round, what is really “going on” is significant because it is informed by the meaningful consummation toward which sovereign grace inclines the whole process.
I pray that, as we struggle together today to hear what the Spirit is saying to this Christian community, we will have the courage to face the reality of the world, which may involve an excruciatingly painful journey into despair. But be assured that, because of what God has done in Jesus Christ, in the midst of that despair there is hope. Let us be bearers of that hope. Let us be messengers of hope. God will surprise us. The labour pains of the new creation have begun. The waters have broken. Let us be midwives of God's new creation.
Rob Bos. Season of Easter, 2006.
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