Henri Nouwen asked his readers a vital question: “Is there a quiet stream underneath the fluctuating affirmations and rejections of my little world? Is there a still point where my life is anchored and from which I can reach out with hope and courage and confidence?”
The spirit of Advent has continually been about making room for hope, for anchoring our inner being with trust in the Goodness of Life. In Advent we restore our confidence in the Holy One and in one another—renewing a conviction that we will not be abandoned, even though our desires and goals may not have been met. When we have hope we are kinder, more loving, less judgmental, and increasingly generous with our caring presence. Just a few words spoken or written in a fresh way can infuse hope into a dulled and discouraged life. This kind of hope carries us into Christmas where we re-activate and again celebrate Love coming to dwell among us.
When Emily Dickinson penned the oft quoted lines in her poem about hope, she envisioned this essential quality as a bird perching and singing in the soul. Some might think of this as the little cheeps of a songbird but I think of the insistent, unrelenting declaration of the wren seeking union with a mate, or a whippoorwill’s endless chanting throughout the night, a message refusing to be quieted. Emily got it right. Hope is as enduring as that.
Here are some lines from the Preface of my book, Constant Hope, referring to this steadfast virtue much needed at this current time in our history:
“On you I depend from birth; from my mother’s womb you are my strength;
constant has been my hope in you.” (Ps71:6)
“Hope resides at the core of who we are. We have the ability to retain peace of mind and heart no matter how much thick gloom descends on our path of life. Our external world might be inundated with distress, but deep within us there abides a trust that the Holy One will see to our well-being in spite of evidence to the contrary. Psalm 71 declares that this vital quality has been rooted (anchored) in us ever since we experienced the formative months in our mother’s womb. We are meant to be hope-filled people. Yet the question looms large before us: Is it possible to have persistent hope when we live in a society where divisiveness and hostility doggedly work against this likelihood? Is it actually conceivable that we can foster an enduring hope, one that nurtures and sustains an unshakable peace no matter what our troubles might involve?”
Time and again we will find it necessary to buoy up this quality when personal and world events press upon us. We can be people of hope-filled resiliency if we focus steadily on what enables our confidence to thrive. This Advent let us consider our sources of hope—who and what anchors us in confidence, enabling us to continue to be people of great love. As we listen for the little bird of hope persistently singing in our hearts, let’s join in that song and echo it loudly.
Abundant peace,
Joyce Rupp
Reflection on Hope
Who and what assists you in restoring your hope when it falters?
Recall a specific situation when you were re-anchored in hope. How did that happen and what kind of difference has it created for you?
When have you been a source of hope for someone else? How might you do this during the Advent and Christmas season?
