Mountains of Hope

"Where does hope come from?" asked my friend and colleague Patty, a hospital chaplainin Houston. Then, answeting her own question, she declared, "Why, hope comes from hopelessness, of course."

Hope comes from hopelessness?

Of course.

So often, it is only in the deep silence of despair that we can hear hope's whisper; it is in the night shadows of hopelessness that we can glimpse a glimmering promise of a brighter world.

Lately, and this past month especially, I found found myself in this place of hopelessness. I cannot trust our leaders to work for healing and peace in our world, and I felt as if the little I do - the ministry, the vigils, the advocacy, the writing - I felt that none of it amounted to much, and that my little efforts could not counter the evil being thrust upon our world by the powers that be. But you know what? Just as my friend suggested, it was in this state of hopelessness that I found hope.

Two weeks ago, I attended the Bethany Fellowship retreat. As is the case everytime I gather with this remarkable group of Disciples clergy, I found myself surrounded by excellence, by people making a difference in their little corners of the world, people working for peace and healing and wholeness. And I listened to thier stories, to their struggles and to their successes. And I let these wash over me. And I began to remember that I have stories to tell, too. Stories of sadness and stories of celebrations. And as I began to tell my stories, I heard my own voice declaring that I am doing something to make a difference in the world. And I remembered that this is true.

Then last week, I attended the National Leadership Gathering of The Interfaith Alliance in Denver. And again, I found myself surrounded by excellence, by people making a difference in their little corners of the world, people working for peace and healing and wholeness. The conference was aptly named "Mountains of Hope" - we had the Rocky Mountains just to our west, and hope abounded throughout those days. As I listened to the stories of the affliates working around our country and as I listened to the speakers, I actually found myself not just wanting to hope, but actually daring to do so.

One of the speakers at "Mountains of Hope" was Colorado Governor Bill Ritter, who suggested that in our world today, the fight for justice is a "battle between people who hope and cynics." If this is true, then I want to be on the side of the hopeful. Because I want to believe that a peaceful and just world is possible. And even when I don't believe it, I want to.