“Don’t climb too far up the hope tree, because when that branch snaps….”
I can’t exactly recall the first time I heard this colourful counsel, warning me to prepare myself for the likelihood of disappointment that all too often follows raised expectations. I think it might have come from the mouth of Henk Hart after I finally received my PhD, and we were discussing my career prospects in a shrinking academic job market. Better always to stay low to the ground, he advised, so you can more easily pick yourself up after the inevitability of disappointment.
However colourful and pithy this phrasing might be, something about it is off. In Romans 5 Paul tells us that true hope does not disappoint us, so by that logic we should fearlessly climb as high as we possibly can into its outermost branches. In that light, perhaps Henk was really advising me not to invest my hope in any specific expectation or particular outcome, but rather to remain tethered to a deeper hope that can help me weather such disappointment and give me the wherewithal to pick myself up and dust myself off when optimistic expectations are dashed, as they so often can be.
That way of understanding hope, I think, gets us closer to what Paul is talking about in Romans 5, and is also wonderfully developed in a new book by the Korean-German philosopher Byung-Chul Han in his brief volume The Spirit of Hope. There Han describes hope as an attuning mood that we can spiritually cultivate—together and within ourselves—and thus use to orient us in any situation (p. 24). Hope in this sense is not attached to any particular outcome but is rather a way of tuning into life such that, whatever befalls us—as when our best and worst laid plans lie in ruins all around—we still find the capacity to say, “and yet…” (p. 39ff.).
In our day, says Han, hope has a powerful enemy: fear. So long as our culture is ruled by fear, as it so often seems to be, it cannot inspire hope. We must therefore fight tooth and nail against our culture of fear because, whereas hope unites us, fear isolates us. And this is where God’s love enters the picture. Hope does not disappoint us, says Paul, because “God’s love has been poured into our hearts….” Hope is thus the tuning that keeps us locked into the channel of divine love and the redemptive possibility such love presents. In Han’s words:
Fear and love are mutually exclusive. Hope, by contrast, includes love. Hope does not isolate. It reconciles, unites, and forms bonds. Fear agrees with neither trust nor community, with neither closeness nor touch. (11)
We know we are attuned to real hope, then, when we survey a broken world and nevertheless understand that it is not forever frozen into what it has become, that its wounds and scars can be thawed and healed by the renewing power of our Messiah’s love—love we are called to emulate.
Such hope, then, does not ask, ‘How might I best survive amidst these ruins?’ Rather it asks, ‘How can we build a new community of love and blessing from these scattered shards?’ Hope, then, sees possibility where fear sees only futility, and hope understands that this possibility is always available to us no matter how bad things get. As John Steinbeck put it in The Grapes of Wrath:
I have a little food’ plus ‘I have none’. If from this problem the sum is ‘We have a little food’, the thing is on its way, the movement has direction…. This is the beginning—from ‘I’ to ‘we’.
There is finally something audacious and intrepid about hope, this movement from ‘I’ to ‘We’. Han describes it as “a searching movement”:
It is an attempt to find a firm footing and a sense of direction. By going beyond the events of the past, beyond what already exists, it also enters into the unknown, goes down untrodden paths, and ventures into the open, into what-is-not-yet. It is headed for what is still unborn. It sets off toward the new, the altogether other, the unprecedented. (5)
In these dark times, friends, I pray that God’s love infuses us with the hope that does not disappoint us, but rather stays with us, so that we can find each other, escape our isolation, and be inspired to build the community of solidarity, justice, and peace that God’s shalom way gives us the power to imagine.
Shalom, friends!
Ron Kuipers
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