Hope

The pundits and talking heads have finished analyzing the events of the past year. People all over are recovering from their celebrations heralding the arrival of 2008. The new crystal ball in Times Square has fallen, and the streets of New York have already been cleaned up from the tons of confetti and garbage of last night’s revelry. The last football game of this New Year’s Day is almost over, releasing millions (mostly men) from the trance of the Bowl games. This is a good a time as any to talk about hope.

 

I admit, hope may not be the first thing that comes to the mind of someone surveying the current state of our world. Faced with wars, poverty, global warming, depletion of the planet’s resources, materialism, hunger and the myriad of ills made immediate by the various media, it’s easy to grow weary and cynical. And yet, this is the time when we most need to reach out, for hope is the power of being cheerful in circumstances we know to be desperate.

 

As we had a quiet evening last night with friends, sharing food, wine and stories while waiting for the clock to strike midnight, I was reminded by our conversation of all the acts of kindness each of us had witnessed in our lives. We remarked that this was somehow contrary to what we might have expected, conditioned as we are by the media to be afraid of our fellow man, and that we should listen to our experience, and allow hope in the goodness of others to have a more prominent place at our table.

 

Reflecting on my own life, being born and raised in a Communist dictatorship, I would have had difficulty 20 years ago in believing that my homeland would now be free, that the Berlin Wall would fall, that Communism would topple in its own homeland. I also have to acknowledge all the angels who have appeared in my life, who’ve given me aid and comfort at times I least expected. There are many who have been less fortunate than I. There are more who have been afraid to accept someone reaching out to them, not recognizing the grace they are being offered, having given up on hope, fearful of another disappointment.

 

I’m not a Pollyanna.  I recognize the myriad ways in which we can ensure our eventual destruction in this world. I also recognize in ourselves the capacity to overcome adversity. There is a folk-tale about Destiny, who appeared to three inhabitants of an island. “What would you do,” asked Destiny, “if I told you that tomorrow this island will be completely inundated by an immense tidal wave?”

The first man, a cynic, said, “I would drink, carouse, and make love all night long!”

The second man, a pagan, said, “I would go the sacred temple, make sacrifices to the gods, and pray without ceasing.”

The third man, fearful and troubled, replied, “I would assemble our wisest men and begin at once to study how to live under water.”

 

Hope, which whispered from Pandora’s box only after all the other plagues and sorrows had escaped, is the best and last of all things. Without it, there is only time. And time pushes at our backs like a centrifuge, forcing us outward and away, until it nudges us into oblivion. Wishing you all hope in the New Year,

J.