Our Hopes and Fears

 

We have been wrestling with the effects of the COVI-19 pandemic for half a year.  Can you believe it?  My sense is that navigating the challenges of this season will get harder before it gets easier.  Everything I’ve been reading in the news and in my professional circle points in that direction.  School districts are scrambling to figure out how they are going to fulfill their educational mandate in just a few weeks.  Sports schedules are being diminished or shredded before the season begins.  What in the world are ESPN and Fox Sports going to do with canceled seasons?  Think of the lost revenue!  Beer sales will likely slump.  (That may not be a bad thing.)  In the meantime, some cities still have riots in the streets and our national politics are absolutely toxic.  We’re in a tough place. 

People of faith have not escaped the cultural anxiety that has enveloped us all.  Earlier this week, our combined church boards convened for our monthly meeting.  I acknowledged the tensions that we were all experiencing and then asked them to specifically name some of their fears.  Each person’s circumstances and perspective were unique.  But we all shared fears that were deeply troubling to us.  Outside the board meeting, I suspect fear is common ground to all of us.  We are people of faith, that’s true.  But we’re also human beings trying to navigate our lives through a broken world. 

Our troubles are not unique to the human experience.  Throughout history there have been pandemics, earthquakes, major storms, terrorism, wars, and political upheaval.  In the opening chapters of the Book of Acts, the early church in Jerusalem had a good thing going.  They had an explosive start with over 3,000 people being baptized into the church on the Day of Pentecost.  More people were added to the church every day.  Miracles were happening all the time in Jesus’ name.  The church had an excellent reputation and standing in the community.  That is, until one of the leaders was stoned for his bold preaching, unleashing furious persecution on the church.  The man who would later become St. Paul tried to destroy the church, dragging Christians out of their homes and off to prison.  Many of the people left Jerusalem for their own safety.  The church was devastated. 

Just like we’re feeling today, I’m sure the church folk in Jerusalem wondered when things would return to normal.  They never did.  And that’s a good thing.  Through the dispersion of the people, the gospel went out to all points of the compass and the church multiplied many times over.  What seemed to be a really bad thing turned out to be a wonderful thing. 

We really do not know when things will return to “normal.”  I suspect we’ll never really see the old “normal” but rather have to discover a new way of navigating life – at least to some degree.  And just as the persecution of the early church turned out for their greater benefit, I believe that many opportunities for our good can emerge out of the chaos of this cultural moment.  And this is where hope can arise.  Crisis reveals character.  Perhaps through all this we might be able to form a consensus of how we need to change as a people.  At least, that is my hope and prayer. 

For people of faith, things don’t just happen.  In the tradition of the great monotheistic religions, we believe that God is the sovereign ruler over everything.  For Christians, everything comes together under the lordship of Christ.  I love the way the Christmas hymn-writer put it 152 years ago: “the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.”  The Bible assures us, “[Christ] is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”  We all have our fears.  But they don’t need to control us.  God’s got this.  Strengthen your faith and let hope arise, conquering all your fears.