Signs of Hope in a Sea of Despair
Why storytelling matters even more so in a world that's on fire.
Fear and anger are the currency of our times, and what seemed like stable certainties, even five years ago, have been capsized by forces in our world that are equal parts terrifying and disorienting. Feelings of hopelessness, fueled by a sense of powerlessness, are widespread.
“It turns out that when you mix narcissism and nihilism,” writes David Brooks in a recent article for The Atlantic Monthly, “you create an acid that corrodes every belief system it touches.”
Actions from both extremes of the political spectrum seem to suggest that the only way forward is to burn it all down: to wage a zero-sum war and to take no prisoners. Church leaders, who buy into this revolutionary model, jeopardize the credibility of the gospel for the doubters and the on-their-way-outers and turn the peaceable way of the Kingdom into a joke.
Winsomeness is now a four-letter word, empathy (of a certain kind) is a vice, and Pauline hospitality no longer makes impossible claims upon on our time, money and energy, because it no longer fires up the imagination. It’s now been replaced by an alleged ordo amoris.
All this to say: you’re not crazy for wanting to give up or to shut down.
It’s hard to know the way forward and it ain’t easy being a Christian who takes seriously the whole counsel of Scripture, the demanding patterns of the gospel, and the God who interrogates our idolatrous ways and graciously meets us in the face of the wounded Savior in order to remake us by his Spirit.
How shall we then live? By the testimony of others.
I keep meeting people who are doing good work in the face of voices that would tell them that it’s easier to give up. But they don’t. To me, they’re all signs of hope.
My friend Jon Guerra (along with his wife Val) released an extraordinary new album recently. To some, his music is foolish or naïve. He’s speaking prophetically with his heart in his hand. He’s singing truth to power, but not in the way that’s hard and cold. He’s a sign of hope.
My friend Eric Sarwar is a Pakistani believer who’s spent a lifetime building bridges with his Muslim neighbors. In a world marked by endless cycles of violence, he’s choosing to be a peacemaker—even if only few, both inside and outside the household of faith, might want him to succeed. He’s a sign of hope.
My friend Ben Lowe is the director of a Christian conservation organization, ARocha. His advocacy on behalf of creation isn’t terribly glamorous. Fellow believers often actively resist his efforts, or ignore it, or hate it. But he too is a sign of hope.
My friend Erin Shaw is bringing together in her artwork her Native American heritage and her Christian faith. The work is far from easy—and there are many who’ve misunderstood and rejected her art. But what she’s doing is important and likewise a sign of hope.
My friend Matt Redman started a venture, called Wor/th, which brings musicians, worship leaders and theologians together. To put it bluntly: nobody in the industry asked for it. It’s neither radio-friendly nor business savvy. Is it a waste? No. It's a sign of hope.
To some, it may seem like my friends (and many others like them) are doing impossibly cool things. To plenty of Christians, they’re wasting their time. My friends? They’re simply doing what God’s called them to do. It ain’t easy. Giving up is always a temptation. But they haven’t.
For the rest of us, no matter how small or un-exciting our work may seem, it’s worth doing if it’s done in faith, hope and love. It matters. Jesus sees it. He blesses it. It, too, can become a sign of hope to somebody who desperately needs to see it. Don’t give up. Please don’t give up.
And please keep sharing with each other testimonies of God’s goodness, and faithfulness, and power, and mercy and the rest. With a world like ours on fire, it matters. It really does.